Sons Of Destiny Episode II: Equilibrium
by Kjoil
Summary: After years of exile, Skar finally comes to Coruscant with his new apprentice. But his past continues to haunt him, and it seems the past itself is far from dead...
1. A Voice From The Past

"The failure to read good books both enfeebles the vision and

strengthens our most fatal tendency -- the belief that the

here and now is all there is."

_(Allan Bloom)_

"No great advance has ever been made in science, politics,

or religion, without controversy."

_(Lyman Beecher)_

_**Four Years After The Battle Of Soliton**_

For over a thousand generations Coruscant had been central to galactic affairs. It was universally known that whomever controlled Coruscant controlled the galaxy. When the Empire had come to power, they'd wiped away any remnant of the Old Republic, and during the height of the Galactic Civil War, the planet was formally renamed Imperial Center. The ancient and once grand Jedi Temple was no more, nor was the legendary Senate building. The Imperial Palace was now the largest building on the surface, an old testament of Palpatine's rule.

But more recently it had once again become a landmark for the Republic; the New Republic. Following the defeat of the Empire at the Battle of Endor, the Rebel Alliance had made the capture of Coruscant their first priority. The elite Alliance special missions force and starfighter unit, Rogue Squadron, spearheaded the stab and a cunning plan allowed the Rogues to retake Coruscant with its planetary shields intact and with acceptable collateral damage.

Over the next few years, the New Republic set up government on Coruscant. They moved the capital to the old Imperial Palace, and reinstated senatorial rule. Using immense construction droids, the Republic was able to clear the rubble and erect new buildings on Coruscant's surface.

And once again Coruscant became a magnet to Jedi, just as in the old days when Jedi Knights had sworn an oath to protect Coruscant and its Republic against the forces of darkness in the Galaxy, now a new generation of Jedi was underway. Despite his reservations, he knew it was inevitable he ended up here.

Skar Kjoil settled the _Koniduz _easily into a hovering position over the landing platform. Outside the viewport the shining metropolis of Coruscant was heavy with traffic and its pristine steel buildings shone with a graceful light, so bright Skar had to squint to adjust his eyes as he powered down the ship's thrusters.

The crimson personnel carrier settled down gently in the center of the circular platform, the platform itself so elevated that he couldn't even see the surface of the planet; only the surrounding endless rows of crafts and spaceships that moved by slowly in vast traffic lanes all around him.

Coruscant had always been a scarce subject for him. Scarce because of the fact that he knew Coruscant would one day be under his protection, if he chose to shape his life as his parents and descendants had wanted of him. Skar had seen holos of the great capital which had left him breathless and he had feared the real thing would do the same, and that he would find it hard to resist. And if he did not resist, he would resent himself forever. He had wanted to find himself before he settled down as a myrmidon for the Republic. He enjoyed the solitary life, having his own adventures, being his own man, being free, being…

Being Kayupa.

He'd been happy living the lone warrior life that Kayupa had once. But now he knew he would have to let go of that, to help those who relied on him. Some months ago Skar had found clues to a band of refugee Kjoil suvivors hiding on a planet called Draori, deep inside the Unknown Regions. He'd gone there, finding over two hundred Kjoil that had escaped the initial annihilation of Ka'ckak by the Empire.

Unfortunately, he'd also found the remnants of the Five Epigones, showing up two weeks after his arrival, the five Kjoil first selected to join the Old Republic as Jedi defenders. But they'd turned away from their old beliefs, just like Skind Kjoil they'd turned their attention to the Dark Side and they were trying to wipe out their own people. Them showing up only two weeks after him led Skar to believe that someone had leaked the information he'd uncovered about Draori. And since Jedi Master Luke Skywalker was the only inside the Republic he'd shared the information with, Skar knew the leak was someone inside the Republic.

Why they'd turned to genocide Skar had never understood, but he'd known then it was his responsibility save his people from extinction, even against their own kind. And so Skar had bested and defeated the Four Epigones, and with the help of a New Republic transport, supplied through a call to Skywalker, he'd taken the refugees away from Draori and found a new safe haven for them, where he was sure that no one would ever find them again.

Skar stepped off the _Koniduz_, trailed by the five pilots who'd flown the Republic transport to the new home for the Kjoil, and 2L, his silver protocol droid, Skar's most trusted - not to mention most chatty - companion.

Also following him was a young boy, with unruly blond hair, who stayed close to him. The boy's name was Rishi, he'd lost his parents just before the evacuation of Draori, and Skar had chosen to take him with him. Skar had taken it upon himself to train the ten-year old Rishi into the Kjoil life. He'd chosen Rishi among several other children, because he was the only one who was aware of his power.

Many of the refugees had yet to understand the Force, which was another burden Skar had chosen to carry. He'd told them he would return to them from time to time and teach them how to use it, so that they could teach it on to their children and that the Kjoil race might once again have a future.

Skar had his hand on Rishi's shoulder as they walked across the platform, towards the sole person that had come to greet them. Skar had to concentrate to keep his eyes on the man standing there, finding it hard not to turn his gaze and admire the splendor that was Coruscant. Indeed it was a beautiful place, even more beautiful that he'd imagined it would be.

Skar found it perplexing to look up and see a winged creature fly by, in a world this metallic and populated he'd guessed no indigenous wildlife would prosper. From reading about Coruscant Skar knew the winged creatures were hawkbats. Even though he'd read about them living in the city he still found it odd to see such an animal against such an artificial backdrop, and in more than one way he sympathized with the hawkbat.

He could even feel Rishi's amazement, the feeling of someone so young taking in something so grand was overloading Skar's emotions and he almost felt like crying out of joy. Truly this was a place of much admiration, and he felt a stab of guilt for not helping protect it sooner.

Four years ago, after the fall of Soliton and the death of everyone he held dear, he'd tried to make his own life, far away from the expectations dead people had made of him. He'd wanted to set out on his own and find his own place in the world. But somewhere deep, lying dormant in his conscience, there was the feeling he'd always known he would end up here. Skar tugged at Rishi's shoulder to encourage the boy and tell him that there was nothing to be afraid of. And he couldn't help smile at himself when he realized he was also trying to calm himself.

Skar and Rishi, with 2L in tow, reached the singular man awaiting them at the platform's entrance. Feeling it was proper, Skar knelt down before this man, bowing his head.

The man's brown cloak surrounded him like a second layer of skin, his fingers interlocked before his belly, as he greeted them with a boyish smile. Luke Skywalker held up his palm. "Please, you don't have to bow, Skar."

Since the incident at Soliton four years ago, Skar had kept a line of communication open with Luke. On some occasions they'd shared information and thoughts on their own roles in the Galaxy. Skar thought of Luke as a friend, though they'd never even spoken in person. Skar had sent Master Bo-Hi's lightsaber to Luke once, at a time when Luke was coming to meet Skar. Because of Skar's own wishes to not tie himself down to anything other than himself yet, he'd left a message for Luke inside the lightsaber, only to be read by other Jedi.

It had been a test of them both; Skar had given up a precious item to him, severing his own connections to the past he was trying to build a foundation from, and a test of Luke's abilities with the Force. Both had passed the test.

Luke's eyes wandered over Skar's form as the Kjoil Knight rose before the Jedi Master, seeing for the first time the man that had evaded them meeting like this for four years now. Skar felt another bitter stab of guilt; for so long he'd maintained a line of contact with Luke only to talk about themselves and the way they viewed the world. And now, on their first meeting, Skar had come to ask a favor.

"You look tired."

Skar thought Luke was referring to the weary look on his face from the last two hectic months, but maybe he was seeing Skar for the first time and describing him as best as he could; tired. He supposed it was well-fitting either way. "I am. From battle."

"So I hear." Luke's face was very diplomatic and kind, a trait Skar guessed he'd inherited from his sister Leia. "It was a good thing you called me when you did. It was sheer luck that one of our transports was just collecting dust in a hangar."

Skar found it hard to smile. "You were my only hope."

"How many refugees survived?"

Telling Luke would have been easy and he truly believed he could trust Luke; however he'd felt that way before and things had gone terribly wrong. "Luke, I'm not here to chit-chat, and I'm not here to stay." The words tasted sour in his mouth.

Luke's aghast expression gave Skar a streak of satisfaction. "Look, I'm not going to make any rash assumptions about your presence here," Luke said matter-of-factly. "Given our talks in the past, it couldn't have been an easy decision."

Skar clutched his wrists at his lower back, Rishi's tiny hand inside them. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I'm…honored, I think is the word." Luke's youthful face looked even younger than Skar's though they were the same age. Luke's bore the signs of battle, a scar here and there, but it still looked like the innocent face of a young boy. Luke, taking his eyes off Skar, looked at Rishi. "Is this - ?"

This time Skar didn't have to force forth a smile. It came on its own, as he looked down at the small boy who stared out at the bustling activity all around him, squinting his eyes from the bight sun. "Yeah, this is the one I told you about."

Luke smiled warmly and crouched down before Rishi, looking more like a playful uncle than a Jedi Master. Rishi looked at him, studying the stranger who held out his hand to him.

"Welcome to Coruscant, Rishi. Glad you could join us."

Acting as a ten year old would when introduced to a strange and unfamiliar environment, Rishi stepped behind Skar's leg, drawing another smile from Skar, and hid himself from the stranger.

Luke took no offense, he only smiled. "What a source of joy. I can see why this means so much to you." Then Luke's face changed as he looked back up at Skar. If Skar didn't know any better, he'd say Luke had just aged ten years in a second, the innocent boy was gone. "It actually worries me that you're here, Skar, makes me wary. There was no need for you to come here."

The smile vanished from Skar's face as well, as he nodded his head towards the five Republic pilots who stood too far from them to overhear the conversation. "They are the reason I'm here. The refugees' safety was compromised after I found the clues to their location by someone inside the New Republic. I can't let it happen again."

Luke nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. "I agree. And it was regretful what happened the first time. A grim mark of corrupt forces within the Republic. I don't suppose you've gathered any intel that might reveal this traitor?"

Skar shook his head. "No."

Luke sighed. "Then we must think of a way to avoid it happening again."

"I've thought of a way." Skar lowered his voice and added a touch of the Force to block his words from anyone else. "I want to erase the location of the new hideout from the minds of those pilots."

Luke started. "What?"

Skar was in no mood for charades. "You heard me."

"Skar, I can't let you do that. You and I both know that such attempts can sometimes trigger unwanted defects. Intricate manipulation of memories, especially recent ones, is very dangerous. I understand you don't want this secret to become public knowledge, but these men you can trust. They're loyal and committed to the New Republic - "

"As I'm sure the ones who sold out Draori once were," Skar snapped. "They're a risk I can't afford to take. Its safest if only I know where they are."

Luke looked at the nervous boy huddling around Skar's leg. "What about him?"

Skar never shifted. "I've already erased it from his memory."

Luke's face froze, but Rishi was Skar's responsibility, not his. Luke looked over at the pilots. Again that diplomatic edge appeared on his face. The face of a politician. "As much as I sympathize with your situation, the answer is no."

Skar expected that, and yet it still struck him like a fist to the stomach. "Luke, those refugees are my family, my race, my future. I won't jeopardize their lives."

"And I won't let you play with those men's minds. There must be another way. I can't allow you to do it, the mind is a fragile thing," Luke shook his head slowly. "And the Force is a powerful tool, you can't just use it at your whim."

Skar allowed himself a slight smile. "I can, Luke. That's the difference between you and me."

Luke sighed. "My answer's still no."

Skar looked up at him. "Someday someone will have to restore the Jedi Order, Luke. And its going to be one of us, because we are the only ones left with the amount of knowledge we have. We're the only ones who can train the next generation. Its time to start. We're wasting time."

Luke agreed with a nod. "Time is slipping between our fingers as it is...but that has nothing to do with these pilots and your request...and you know that.."

Skar felt even more pushed to the edge. "So that's a no, then? I came all this way, just to be turned down!"

Rishi stirred by his leg, shaken by the sudden outburst of anger. 2L remained neutral in the background, studying the proceedings from a logical point of view.

Luke shook his head, clearly disappointed at Skar's flare. "I'm not a merchant, Skar. You can't trade favors here. You're the one who chooses whether or not your visit here is a failure."

Skar coiled his fists, squeezing Rishi's tiny hand inside. "The only thing that has failed was my faith in you!" Skar barked.

Again Rishi clutched himself tighter to his Master, not used to those kinds of words coming from a man who had taken the role of his father and mentor, after the death of his own family on Draori.

Luke hugged himself, as if a sudden chill had come across him. "Don't let anger control your words, Skar - "

"Don't lecture me!" Even as he said it Skar felt the anger Luke had pointed out grow inside him. The last few months had been very stressful and he also knew they would be some of the most important acts he would ever achieve in his life; to help the Kjoil become a people again. That's why he was so angered. He knew that no one should stand in the way of his success. Not even Luke Skywalker. Skar's free hand clutched into a fist, the anger boiling inside his palm.

"Don't mistake me for your enemy, Skar," Luke warned. "I'm not."

Skar only then noticed his free hand was closing in on his lightsaber, the silver metallic handle strapped to his thigh. Skar did not want this to turn into a measure of strength with the blades, because he knew it wouldn't gain him anything. But still the thought of proving to Luke that he could control his anger and avoid being dampened by the Dark Side was alluring.

Skar sighed mentally, feeling disgusted. The last months had really changed him. Was he willing to take on Skywalker to get his message through? Was it worth it? Was it...justifiable? Reason was fighting to speak out, but anger was already screaming its lungs out.

"You're in my way!"

"No." Luke showed his irritation with a pair of rolling eyes. "I'm trying to show you the way." The way Luke's hands suddenly fell to his sides showed Skar that the Jedi also was wondering whether or not this might turn into a duel.

Skar was afraid it would come to this, afraid he would have to make this choice. But in a way he knew he'd chosen that path long ago, this was just the final step. And in the grander scheme of things his small sacrifice meant nothing compared to the people whose lives would be saved. Skar, feeling bitter all the way down his throat, knelt down before Luke again.

"If you help me protect my family…I will protect yours."

Luke was surprised. "What?"

"I'll join you, Luke," there was a taste of bile in his throat, mixed with a small measure of pride and anguish. "I'll help you protect the New Republic."

"I thought you wanted to walk your own path?"

Skar sighed. "There are many paths to choose from."

Luke nodded hesitantly. "I was hoping you would come to this conclusion. Its the Jedi way. Compassion. Surrending oneself for something greater."

Skar looked up, pleadingly. "So you'll help me?"

Luke's eyes were still full of worry, and Skar saw it in slow motion as the Jedi shook his head, his eyes closed, dooming Skar's wish once again. "I told you, I'm not a merchant."

Skar found himself without resources and spent. No solutions but enough anger to fuel a fleet of star destroyers. He'd figured that pledging his loyalty would be enough to sway Luke, but the Jedi was even more difficult than he'd suspected. Skar realized maybe that was the problem. Maybe he thought too highly of himself.

Skar was growing desperate and angry. He'd never felt this much anger towards a being before in his life. He of course knew what had brought this anger around, his last few months had been without rest and he'd had to take care of an entire two-hundred refugees, trying to think of ways to help them the best way he could, taking upon himself a responsibility he in no way felt ready for. Only to stand here now, at the final step, and be denied. Though he knew all these things it didn't make the anger go away, it only fueled it.

It built up inside of him, breaking defences like a tidal wave. He felt saturated by it. He could feel it behind his eyes, at the tip of his fingers, burning inside him like an ever growing fire.

_Anger leads to hate._

Rising from his knees, Skar unclipped his lightsaber from his thigh and charged towards Skywalker. 2L yelped in distress as it happened and Rishi ran for cover. The Jedi had his green blade out fast enough, expecting the attack, and was able to parry a strong overhead strike from Skar's likewise green blade.

Skar's anger tunneled through him, made him think of a thousand ways he wanted to show Luke that it was wrong to mess with him. His lightsaber danced between him and the Jedi as they engaged in battle. Skar's quick hands made mincemeat of Luke's defenses and drove the Jedi back on the landing platform, gaining ground and pushing Luke further and further back from where he came.

Skar unlocked his blade from the fighting and fell into his defensive stance. "How dare you deny me!"

Luke shook his head slowly. "I do want you on my side, but that doesn't mean I'll do anything for it. There are still boundaries none of us should cross."

Skar knew where this was going. "The Dark Side. That's what you fear."

Luke didn't deny it. "I cannot stand by and watch you do something I never could. And I can't understand why you'd join a group you don't even trust."

Skar snarled and jumped forward, pouncing on Skywalker like he was nothing. Skar's skills with a saber far outmatched Luke's parries, but somehow the Jedi managed to stay on top of things. Skar knew if it should come to death, Luke's family would be the one shopping for a tombstone. Skar continued to hack and slash over Luke's blade, driving the man back, his blade's high pitch cutting invisible furrows in the air.

"You needn't fear the Dark Side."

Luke's face didn't change. "Your words, as well as your actions, are contradictions. To know that you've done it would worry me even more than the Dark Side. I know you don't fear it because of your immunity to it." Luke's eyes squinted. "Its you I'm afraid of, not the Dark Side."

"There's nothing to - "

"I wonder if you really understand the Force enough to make such a bold statement. Are you really sure it would not affect you in some way?"

He was beginning to lose it. Skar could feel the anger crawling just beneath his skin. How dared Luke mock his understanding of the Force? How long would Skywalker put up this act, this putrid waste of time while his people loomed in evident danger?

"Only I know my own heart. If I tell you that you don't need to worry, then you don't need to worry!"

Luke's eyes looked deep down inside him, judging Skar's feelings and his anger. "Skar, you're only making things worse. Stop this now, come to your senses. This is not what I expected of you."

That angered Skar even more, but as he began to move forward to attack Luke again, he noticed that the pilots on the platform had unholstered their blasters and were targeting him. Likewise all the closest hovercrafts above him had frozen in the air, their occupants staring down at the two Force adepts going at each other.

Everywhere were faces staring at him, the faces of the people he pretended he wanted to protect. The faces of the innocent that haunted you when the time came to prove your intentions. Skar slouched, feeling a tired drain across his shoulders. His eyes wandered to where Rishi should be, but the boy had hidden himself behind one of the pilots.

Skar swallowed the bitter lump in his throat. _What am I doing? What has happened to me? When did I get like this? I know the Code by heart. I know it as well as I know my own name. _

_I thought I did._

Luke Skywalker was still holding his blade out, but it hung safely by his legs, the green blade hissing like a snake, while his face looked like a closed book. His eyes were closed and Skar sensed his probing touches around him. Luke was sizing him up, judging whether Skar had come to his senses or not.

Skar powered down his lightsaber, trying not to feel like he was surrendering. This wasn't the way he wanted things to go. This wasn't why he'd come to Coruscant. Seeing Rishi's eyes staring at him with such fear, it was the worst feeling he'd ever had. Maybe he was wrong in choosing an apprentice so soon.

Maybe he wasn't ready.

Luke powered down his blade and opened his eyes, a compassionate touch to them. "You are ready, you may feel you still have a lot to learn, but the Force and the universe it upholds is never-ending. There will always be more to learn. What you know now….you must pass on to Rishi."

Moving a hand over his face, wiping away the sweat, Skar sighed. "If I can ever win his trust again."

Luke walked over to Skar and placed his palm on his shoulder. "You will. You're his family now."

The sound of that drew a genuine smile from Skar's lips. It had been a while since he'd had a family, or friends. Or anyone.

"As for the other matter, leave the pilots to me. And regarding your entry into the Republic I have only one request."

Skar held out his hands. "What?"

Luke tugged at his shoulder. "That you let me help you control your emotions. Our feelings are what makes us what we are, but anger, fear, hatred, those feelings only make us less. They never make us powerful."

Skar knew, as he'd thought he'd known before the fight. There was still much to learn about himself. "Anything else?"

"This fight stays between you and me. No one else needs to know about it."

Skar smirked. "Why, because I was about to take you down?"

Luke's face was anything but amused. "Because I can think of no better reason to deny your request and have you exiled from Coruscant forever, you understand?"

Skar nodded shamefully, looked around and saw that all the speeders had flown away again, returning to their previous business. Even the pilots had holstered their weapons, yet still eyeing Skar with some scrutiny. Skar didn't blame them.

"Its been awhile since I've had someone to talk to in person, someone who understood the Force. I think some time here on Coruscant will be good for me. Perhaps I can find a home here."

Luke flashed his boyish smile. "Show me the Skar I've written to for the last four years and I think it will be good for us both. Stay here while I sort things out with the pilots, I'll find quarters for you and a hangar for your ship."

Luke walked on, signaling the four pilots to follow him off the platform. Skar turned his attention to the young Rishi, huddling behind the landing clamps on the Koniduz. Skar sighed again, how was he ever going to explain what he'd just done? Skar decided to let the boy conquer his fears a little while yet, and then turned to 2L. The silver protocol droid crossed its arms and made a small tisk-tisk sound. 2L could look extremely human when he tried.

"Human behavior is as hard to comprehend as the mating rituals of the Fryian worm," the droid stated.

The droid's humorous sentiment was the mirror image of Skar's own thoughts, and it made Skar smile. The spiteful and playful tone in 2L's voice and manner had come from him only being around Skar for the last four years. Skar was proud of the droid's sarcasm. It reminded him how it was to be around other people. And the droid was good for a few laughs now and then.

"I told you, they put the tail where the legs - "

"It was sarcasm, Master Skar. I'd think you of all people would appreciate sarcasm."

Skar shrugged. "Sarcasm is just another way of hiding what you're really thinking."

2L confessed. "I was wondering whether or not you intend to hold yourself to the promise you gave Master Luke, or whether its just a ploy. Given your previous reservations against Coruscant, its only logical to think that what you just promised, was infact a lie."

Skar made a cautious smile. "It wasn't a lie. Think of it as a vacation."

"The kind of promise you have made, would indicate a time span of more than that of an average vacation."

Skar chuckled to himself. "Well, then call it a sentence."

2L took a moment to understand the meaning of that. "You refer to Coruscant, the Galactic Capital, as a prison?"

Skar started walking towards the Koniduz, thinking it was time to make amends to Rishi and explain things as best as he could. If he could. "Yeah, think of this place as a prison. If we behave for a couple of years, they'll let us out."

The droid leaned against the ship's landing clamp in an almost complete copy of a human being at peace with himself. "The late philosopher Pakria Holh said that there is no such thing as enclosure; only unexplored opportunities."

Skar made a small smile, as he spotted Rishi tucked away beneath the ship. "Fine. We'll think of it as an opportunity." Skar knelt down by the ship and motioned to Rishi to come out. "Come on."

The boy shook his head and wouldn't meet Skar's eyes.

"Its alright," Skar said, "we're safe."

Reluctantly and still slightly afraid, Rishi crawled out from under the ship and dusted himself off. Skar couched down in front of him and ran his sleeve over the boy's face, clearing away the smudge and the tears.

"You okay?"

Rishi nodded, a childish worry on his face. "You attacked that man."

Skar nodded. "Sometimes people do things they haven't thought through. It's called going with your anger. But you and me, we have to be better than that. We mustn't let our feelings get us into trouble. Its important that we take the time to think things through before acting."

Rishi seemed to catch on. "You didn't."

"No," Skar said, finding it hard to deny that fact. "What I did was the wrong thing. That's why we must listen to our hearts, to determine right from wrong."

Rishi nodded, apparently he understood better than Skar had expected. "Even grownups make mistakes, huh?"

Skar rustled the boy's wild hair. "Yeah, no one is perfect. We have to learn from our mistakes so that they don't happen again."

Luke came back out, the pilots nowhere in sight, rubbing his palms together to let Skar know that everything was taken care of.

"We're in the clear. I searched the pilots' minds to see if they're of any danger of corruption or treachery. I explained the matter to them and they agreed to keep this assignment to themselves."

Skar didn't believe what he was hearing. "So you're just going to...trust them?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

Skar frowned. "Luke - "

"And I've also found an apartment for you in Imperial Center. Its unfurnished for now, but I'll have someone send over the necessities for the three of you. I've also arranged for a hangar for your ship. But it will take some time to clear the red tape. Meanwhile I would be honored if you would join me." Luke flashed his best smile. "So this is my official welcome to Coruscant."

Skar forced a smile, still unsure and uncomfortable with his new home, but hoping for the best. The refugees weren't expecting him back any time soon, and their supplies would last them a long time before a new shipment was needed. Coruscant seemed vast and open to him. His chores were done. Everything was new and Coruscant was waiting for him to explore it. "Thank you, Luke…for everything."

"In time I think I will be thanking you. Let me know when you've settled in, and rested, so we can have a talk about our…future plans."

Skar nodded. "The new Jedi Order."

Luke started walking towards the entrance and the three newcomers followed him. "The Galaxy is full of undiscovered Force sensitive potentials. We must find them , and reestablish the Jedi as they once were. Defenders of the Republic."

Skar corrected those words with his own understanding. "Defenders of faith, not just the Republic. While the Jedi may have limited their powers to aid the Republic in the past, it doesn't mean they will do so again. The Jedi of old are gone. The next generation may not want to pick up their old habits."

Luke chuckled and glanced at Skar as they walked alongside each other. "But Skar, don't you see?" His eyes lit up. "We are the next generation."

"Right," Skar agreed.

"I've recently found some information on Dathomir. Hundreds of disks containing more information than I can read in a lifetime. But with a partner I might…" Luke let the sentence linger.

"Give me some time first. Let me get used to this place."

"Of course."

Skar suddenly remembered something in the back of his head. "Dathomir, that's in the Outer Rim, right? The Quelii sector."

Luke was surprised. "Yeah, how'd you - "

"My mother's Holocron. It had some information about the witches that live there. I can't remember all the details, though. The Jedi Knights of the Old Republic exiled a rogue Jedi there and she taught her powers to the inhabitants. As time passed, these Force-sensitive women divided into clans. One of them was supposedly dedicated to the Dark Side, a clan called the Nightsisters, am I right?

Luke's face showed surprise.

"Am I wrong? My memory's a little hazy on the subject."

"No, you're right on!" Luke said enthused. "Its just that I had to go there to learn all that! You read it from a Holocron." Luke's amazement led him to let out an impressed whistle. "Do you still have this Holocron?"

Skar shook his head. "No."

"What happened to it? It could help us out a lot."

Skar held up his palms. "I've already told you about most of it. Everything I told you came from it."

"But we won't last forever, Skar. A Holocron like that should be passed on to the next generation and the next ones too." Luke wouldn't let the subject drop. "Where is it, do you know?"

Skar knew. All too much. "On a planet called Kryuu."

"I've never heard of that planet."

Skar frowned. "Consider yourself lucky. I'm never going back there."

"But what about the Holocron?" Luke insisted.

Skar put his arm around Rishi's shoulders as they walked and pulled the boy closer to him, Rishi's presence smoothed out the painful memories brewing under his surface. With the boy nearby Skar could see a future ahead that negated the pains in his past. Rishi was his future, and the past belonged only to memories that Skar hoped would pass in time, like a dream.

"Some things are best left alone, Luke. This is one of them."

* * *

_**Nine Years Later**_

His hands still hadn't stopped shaking since his last excursion outside in the blistering cold to the auxiliary hydro generator on the frozen lake. He'd been out there fifteen minutes ago, wrapped in a thick coat, gloves, and even a small portable heat generator, and still he'd felt he was turning into a popsicle. Relieved to be back inside his control room, he hurried to make himself a hot cup of caf and decided to wear his coat for a while yet, his gloves too, to keep warm. While it brewed he placed his hands on the kettle to feel the warmth radiating off its surface. Once the caf was done he clapped his hands around the warm mug and sipped the aromatic liquid down with deliberate slowness, letting the warm richness of the taste linger for as long as possible.

An hour ago the main generator had gone offline, the reason still unlocated, making him slightly edgy since in all the time he'd worked here he'd never experienced a shutdown. The generator had never failed on him before. Running a repair yard as big as Hope's Haven required a lot of patience but most of all it needed power. With all the ships the New Republic had been sending him the last few months, to have a power shutdown now was about the worst thing imaginable. Unable to raise his chief supervisor he'd been forced to switch on the alternative power himself.

It had taken him fifteen minutes to get out there in the relentless chill, another fifteen to switch the power routing over to the hydro power, and the last fifteen minutes to get back. The roaring frosty wind that moved constantly over the arctic terrain outside, was something he'd gotten used to during his years of service. But today it got to him.

He didn't know how or why it got to him, but it did.

The door behind him opened, and even before he heard her footsteps he knew it was Junn, his chief supervisor. Normally she took care of the little tasks, but she hadn't been around when it had happened.

Holding his caf to his mouth he swirled around in his chair, to look at her. Wearing her skin-tight black uniform, the kind sipped up in the front, tall black boots and a cap over her long blond hair, she came just inside the door before leaning against the wall. The uniform was sipped down just enough for him to see the upper part of her cleavage, which made him feel more warm inside than the coffee ever could. He forgot all about the roaring winds outside and all about the ice-ball in the far back of the universe he was stationed on. She was definitely one, if not the only, perk about working on Regana.

"Guess where I've just been," Derrik ventured with a sly smirk on his face.

Junn threw up her hands. "Sorry. I noticed the power drain, but I was busy down in the repair bay. One of our clients wanted me, specifically, to take a look at his outdated Headhunter."

"You've got quite a reputation."

She moved away from the wall and eased her body into a chair beside him. "Whatever keeps them coming back."

Derrik nodded. "Not counting the Republic ships we get through here, we are the best, and the cheapest repair yard in this corner of the Galaxy. The best, because we have a great crew of mechanics working for us. The cheapest because we can allow ourselves to charge below ordinary prices because of our huge clientele."

She slammed her boots onto the desk. "I would have never fought this backwater planet could be so busy. Amazing we can attract this much business. We're swamped, Derrik."

"I got another five mechanics coming in tomorrow. All of them top grade. They'll help us pick up on the delays." He smiled confidently. "Setting up the rooms for the overnight guests was a great idea after all."

She nodded, her blue eyes glancing out at the mountain peeks outside. "I hope we'll pick up." Her eyes lingered at the horizon where the white and blue met, a yearning in her eyes. Then she looked over at him, a slight confusion on her face. "That guy with the Headhunter. I've asked a few of our security officers to keep taps on him. He bugs me."

Derrik felt that feeling again, the feeling that this was gonna be a bad day. "Care to elaborate?"

She pondered a moment before answering. "His hyperdrive was shot to death. I took a look at it, and I swear it looked like it was done deliberately."

Derrik sipped his caf. "Did he say it was done deliberately? Could just be another guy running from trouble."

"But it doesn't help us much if he brings trouble to us. We've had that kind of trouble before."

"And we'll handle it," he reassured her, "just like before."

She wasn't comforted. "Let me bring him up on a screen. You tell me there isn't something fishy about this guy." She pulled her feet down from the desk and started tapping away on a keyboard. The screen between them lit up with an image of the Headhunter, looking ready for scrap, with a man leaning against its nose, looking around at the activity surrounding him. She tapped on the keyboard and the angle changed to a close-up of his face.

Derrik immediately understood why she was so worried. He'd never seen anyone look so…concentrated. "Looks like he's staking out the joint. He's a little too observant for my taste."

She nodded. "I'm right, aren't I? When he told me about the repairs he needed, it was like he wasn't really to talking to me. He sounded like he'd rehearsed what he was gonna say." She leaned away from the screen, staring at the man. "He's trouble."

Derrik studied the man, noting his focused eyes. "Did you check him for weapons? Tell him about our no-weapons policy?"

She looked at Derrik, fear radiating from her eyes. "I was too scared to."

"You were scared?" The explanation sounded offbeat because Junn could usually handle herself pretty well in a fight. If the place had a bar, she'd be his chief bouncer.

"I don't know. I usually keep my fear in check, but this guy…I'm telling you its like meeting the monster you've always feared was under your bed when you were young."

Derrik smiled. "Oh, come on. It can't be - " He stopped mid-sentence as he unleashed a gigantic sneeze. He managed to cover his mouth fast enough to catch most of it. "Great, now I've caught a cold. Sorry bout that. I think its time I took a vacation or something, because - " He looked over at her to see her eyes wide open, and looking startled. "It was just a sneeze, Junn."

She pointed at the screen. The man was still there but he'd moved.

"He moved exactly when you sneezed."

Derrik wiped his nose. "He heard it?"

He saw her nod and they shared a glance between them for several seconds, both of them seeing the terror in each other's eyes. Derrick was the first to reach for his comlink. Junn had hers out a second later, trying to reach the two guys she'd ordered to watch the guy. Derrick had already requested ten more guys to the repair bay by the time she was done telling them to apprehend him. She put down her comlink, got up, and started padding herself down for bugs. Derrik thought maybe the man had planted a listening device on her. Derrick kept his eyes on the screen, reassured slightly that the man was still present next to his Headhunter.

Junn finished searching her form. "Nothing. Damn it, I knew something was wrong! I'll bet he smashed up his own ship."

Derrik rubbed his chin. "But why?"

Junn leaned over the desk, her eyes filled with worry as she stared at the screen. "Competing business, probably. Sabotage, maybe. That Headhunter could be loaded with explosives."

Derrick kept his stare on the screen also. "I had a feeling this would be a bad day. You think the shutdown of the generator is related?"

Junn didn't seem to like thinking things were worse than they already seemed. "Hardly. But he did show up around that time."

"What would he benefit from a powerdown?"

Junn shook her head.

Derrick's veins froze. He swallowed hard and watched the screen, and saw the man nervously twitch as the repair bay came alive with a new group of people. Derrik's reinforcements arrived in the shape of ten armed guards. As they marched in Derrik felt a slight pride in seeing his men perform professional behavior, raising their blasters and surrounding the man in mere seconds. Derrik raised from his chair, took off his gloves, and victoriously slammed them down on the desk.

"We got him."

Junn switched screens as a small light began blinking on their desk. The new screen showed them an image of a ship fighting to break through the persistent winds. The ship was rocked from side to side, but kept its course. Derrik pitied anyone onboard that ship so much he sympathised with Junn as she started hailing the ship to help it get to one of their hangars safely.

Derrik left her to it, and made his way down the control tower. He reached the repair bay soon enough, and found his men in accordance to plan, still keeping the man pinned. He walked up to the man, and slowly realizing the image of the man on the screen upstairs didn't do him justice. Long hair white as the snow itself, and eyes as deep and menacing as the night. Junn had been right, this was a creepy customer.

The man stared right through him, his eyes concentrated beyond the extreme. Not the slightest hint of fear on his face.

The words stuck in his throat. "I - I'm…Derrik Melar. I manage this repair yard. Who are you?"

Before the man could answer, not that Derrik had expected an answer, a huge boom resonated through the bay and soon after the bay doors opened in the far end of the hangar. The chilling wind rushed in, washing them all and Derrik felt cold again, and not just from the frost.

That odd feeling that this was a bad day came back as a new pristine ship hovered slowly through the gap in the doors, it was the ship he'd seen coming down through the storm, Junn must've let them in. He didn't recognize the ship, and from his years of experience he couldn't tell anything immediately wrong with the ship.

The bay doors groaned shut behind the ship and the roar of the wind vanished as the ship settled down next to the Headhunter. Derrik felt disorientated from his original task of apprehending and questioning the man, even more so when the ramp on the new ship lowered.

Derrik and his guards began to look worried, they felt out of place. The man with the Headhunter had thrown them off their guard, made them feel inferior, like they were involved in some grand plot where they played no part at all. The ten guards didn't know what to do, their blasters began to lower.

And as the two new people came down the ramp of the ship, a man and a woman, Derrik suddenly felt like the place he'd called home had never really been his. The man and the woman, the woman being of normal height with dark long hair and in her forties, walked to Derrik as if they'd pointed him out as the weakest of the herd. The woman was wearing a long black cloak with a hood that hung loosely on her shoulders.

However the man was the focus of all attention. Tall and rank, his silver gray hair and beard perfectly-trimmed, sharp features and a horrible scar running from the left side of his jaw to his left eyebrow. The grayness of his hair and his beard made Derrik place the guy to be in his early sixties, but his age didn't seem to have made him any weaker physically.

Except for a slight limp in his left leg, the man walked with a confident swagger, the way soldiers walked, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long brown coat, wearing a uniform underneath that Derrik had never seen before. The man's sheer presence exuded strength and confidence, accentuated by his piercing eyes. He didn't even spare the guards a glance as he closed in on Derrik and came to a halt one stride from him. He was overconfident.

He was smug.

And Derrik never doubted for a second he had a reason not to be. The woman stopped inches behind him, her face a bit uncertain but still very open and aware.

"Excellent work, Sonnet," the woman said over Derrik's shoulder.

Derrik turned around and locked eyes with the Headhunter's owner. The man nodded simply, his eyes staring right through Derrik.

Derrik felt completely out of place. "What...is going on here?"

In the back of his mind Derrik heard the door behind him open and he turned to see Junn step out with a blaster in her hand, aimed at him.

"You too, Eulogy," the woman continued.

Ignoring the bitter taste of betrayal at the back on his throat, he turned back around to the older man, who, if possible, was smiling even more smugly now.

The man bowed politely. "We are the Sons of Destiny," his voice was as clear and direct as lightning from a dark sky, "and we are taking over this station."

* * *

Jedi Master Luke Skywalker stepped off the lift and ignited his green lightsaber almost instantly. The green blade illuminated parts of the ravaged room, scanning over the floor, the carpet had been pulled up in several places and a thick layer of dust covered everything. Furniture was knocked over, the light fixtures dead, but still humming with electricity. Eight pillars supported the upper floor from falling down into the room, but it looked like their days were almost numbered. The building was part of a lower class section of Coruscant, Luke had followed a known information-broker to this sector, concerning a matter of great importance to the Republic. 

Luke stepped past a knocked-over shelf, his eyes scanning the corners of the room and looking for tiny changes in the air or sounds, that would zero him in on Wedder's location. He could feel a presence in here, but it felt faint. Not like when Luke could see the person he was reading, when the person was standing in plain sight, it was easy to peer into the mind of a visible subject. But someone hidden usually presented more of a challenge. Fortunately the man's panicked emotions and racing heart should make him stick out like an X-Wing in the middle of an Imperial Fleet.

Yet it didn't.

This man knew how to control his mind, which was more than Luke could say for any other sentient he'd ever encountered who didn't possess the Force. There were not many ways to cloak oneself from a Jedi's touch, but this man had found one.

Luke flashed his famous boyish smile. "You cannot hide forever, Dhohji."

No answer came, and there was no change in the Force, everything remained as hidden and as secret as before. Luke continued to walk through the room, relying heavier on his own eyes now than he did on the Force. If the Force could not provide him with the man's location he would have to do without. Luke's grip on the lightsaber became sweaty, he couldn't explain his own nervousness, he only knew he didn't like the way things had shifted on him. He'd suspected Wedder to be a done deal. While Luke hated to boast about his own strengths, it was true that few people dared stand up to him, especially not a simple man such as this Wedder Dhohji.

Luke understood how information was brokered in the underworld, and he knew who to pay a visit if one needed information. People dealing in criminal activities, not that information brokering was espicially illegal, it all depended on the information, were usually easier to talk to. They always had the same weakness; money.

Luke had approached the man in public which he suspected could have been a bad move in hindsight. Wedder's associates might not have liked seeing him talking to a Jedi Master, it would be bad for business. And all Luke wanted was to talk, he didn't want to destroy any further assistance that Wedder might be able to provide in the future.

Luke looked down at his own hands. He couldn't remember the reason why he'd drawn his lightsaber, he only knew he'd felt it was appropriate at the time. Something was different about this man.

"Show yourself!" Luke commanded, adding his own touch of the Force in those words, trying to manipulate Wedder into showing himself.

Again nothing happened.

Luke sighed. He'd checked every corner of the room and no one was there. Maybe he'd chosen the wrong floor or maybe he'd misjudged Wedder. He scanned the room one last time using the Force and still he could feel a presence close by, but it was a presence somewhere beyond his touch with the Force or beyond the room itself. Luke didn't like to think he couldn't find the man because his touch with the Force might be dampened. Luke was a Jedi Master, the thought of something outside it he couldn't see or feel, was, in lack of a better word, impossible.

Luke found a set of windows in the back of the room, that looked out over other buildings outside, all of them laid in rubbles and decay, beyond repair and beyond condemning. The street between the buildings was sparsely used, Luke gathered, the dust coated over it suggested that no one had been using it for some weeks now. There were no footprints outside except for his own, leading from a parked speeder in an alley between two buildings across the street and leading into the entrance below him on the street level.

Luke powered down his lightsaber and let out a small sigh. He needed Wedder. Not along ago a bomb had detonated inside the Senate and many people had been killed. His own sister, Leia, had almost been killed in the blast, but luckily she came out of it with nothing but a pair of bruises and weakened hearing. Luke thanked the stars that both conditions would heal eventually. But the wounds that detonation had made on the New Republic would not heal as quickly. He needed to find Wedder soon, and find out if he had any idea or had heard anything about who might've been behind the attack.

Luke didn't understand how he could have missed the man.

"Because your mind is elsewhere," a raspy voice whispered from the shadows of the room.

Luke brought his lightsaber back up and ignited his green blade, sent out a Force-wave to search for the person in the shadows. He got nothing.

But an answer came as a form stepped out from between two pillars, the shadows dancing on the floor in front of him as the man lit his own lightsaber. The green blade hummed to life, snapping like a snake.

Luke fell into his guard stance, trying not to think of how he could have overseen this intruder. Trying not to think at all as he centered himself in the Force and allowed his nervousness to silently drown out in the shadows.

The intruder struck first, coming in with a wide right slash that Luke jumped back from, only to feel his back press up against the wall behind him. Luke recovered and lifted his hands to block another strike, another long swipe, that could have cleaved Luke in two if his block had been a second slower. But the force of the blow was strong enough to throw Luke to the floor, where he rolled to a safe position, his attacker's blade hacking through the floor behind him.

Luke noted his own performance, he'd done nothing so far to tip the edge of victory. A Jedi never attacked, a Jedi relied on defense, and only if the situation was inevitable would he take a life. Only if his attacker would not yield or surrender.

Luke had a feeling this one would never yield.

Luke sidestepped behind a pillar, only to cause its demise, as the attacker's green blade moved through the pillar like it was air, trying to hit Luke. The pillar section tumbled down and sent up a cloud of dust around the attacker.

Luke saw his opening.

Flinging out his hand he tossed his green lightsaber into the dust cloud. But a second green blade came out of the hazy dust-filled air and blocked the revolving lightsaber with a single handed grip. Luke moved his hand up and guided the lightsaber around to make another strike, but again his effort was ridiculed as his attacker displayed his perfect awareness of the surroundings.

Luke gasped as the attacker jump-flipped out of the dust-cloud, rolling to a stand, with a green lightsaber in each hand, the blades burning like torches. The shadow began walking closer to him, each footstep deliberately slow, as the man came towards the weaponless Luke Skywalker. Luke felt the wall against his back again, no way out.

The shadow stopped before him.

Luke tried to think of something he could do, reaching out to his own lightsaber in the enemy's grip he felt only emptiness surrounding it. He couldn't call the lightsaber to him. The intruder had blocked Luke's control of it. Luke looked up to see the face of his attacker but couldn't, it was too dark. The intruder stood there, not even panting, seemingly studying Luke like he was wounded prey. Like he was waiting for Luke to keel over and die of old age.

Luke inhaled deeply and thought of another strategy.

Talking.

"I'm looking for Wedder Dhohji. Last I saw him he ran in here, I didn't mean to intrude on your sanctuary."

The shadow's head tilted. "You'd give up that easily, Luke?"

The mentioning of his name at least revealed that the attacker knew who he was. Luke hoped that would somehow help reasoning with the man, although he didn't know how. Luke was getting old but he was still a Jedi Master. He hadn't forfeited yet, and if it came to more blows he had faith he would find of a solution or a weakness that would gain him victory. But the standoff could be used to squash any further attempts on his life, if Luke could reason with his attacker and assure him he hadn't come for him. Though he was somewhat surprised at the fact that someone like this intruder could have been hiding from his awareness on Coruscant. Someone so talented in the Dark Side -

Luke caught himself. There had been no indication or sensation of the Dark Side at any time, this attacker wasn't a Dark Side Adept. He was something else.

Luke nodded at the lightsabers. "You hold all the cards. Its up to you whether it ends here."

The shadow chuckled lightly, and powered down both blades. "Only a fool trusts his life to a weapon, Luke," the gruff voice said. "We both possess a weapon greater than these."

Luke agreed with the philosophy but he had a feeling he would feel a lot better if he had his weapon back. "Who are you?"

The shadow tossed Luke's hilt to him, and Luke caught it, very surprised at the sacrifice. If someone really wanted to kill him, as so many had tried before, this would go down in history as a lesson on what not to do if the chance came.

The shadow stared at him, his pose steady, no sign of any doubt or hesitance. "Take a walk outside your thoughts, Luke. These are troubled times, but you should know a friend, if not from his face, then by his voice," the ragged sound of his voice of somewhat familiar to Luke. The shadow started stepping into a single beam of light that glowed from the nearby window. Working its way up from the man's boots, the light revealed the man's identity. "You would think you'd remember me."

Luke felt the blood leave his face when the man's face was revealed. The man's cold blue eyes looked at Luke with a hint of respect but also pity. Long wild brown hair hung carelessly down the sides of the man's face, matching the beard growing along the man's strong chin. Luke, at first, didn't recognize him, the man's visage had changed since he'd seen him last, almost becoming more animal-like in appearance, his eyes displaying a ferocity that resembled a hunter more than a Jedi.

While his appearance could easily be compared to a predator there was also a placid kindness, almost a childlike innocence about him. A tired and humble nature about the man that made him look much older than he was, some ancient hurt in his eyes. Though Luke knew him to be only in his mid-thirties, the man looked much more grown, bordering on middle-aged.

On both his hands were red tattoos wrapping around his hands and wrists, like snakes. When the man carefully smiled, Luke caught a glimpse of the way he remembered the man in his memory and the joy of the reunion finally came to life in Luke's heart.

"Skar!"

Skar Kjoil clipped the hilt to his belt. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to walk alone in places like this?"

Luke clipped his own lightsaber to his belt. "She might have."

Skar clapped Luke on the shoulder, taking a bit of the hit off. "I never met my mother either, but I know not to come to places like this." Skar walked away from Luke and stepped over to look out the window at the streets below. "I'm guessing your father never said anything either?" he added.

Luke forced a smile and a quick comeback. "No, but there were times where I think he would have wished he could have ambushed me like you did."

Skar hugged himself by the window, his back to Luke and his voice almost a whisper as he said, "I wouldn't claim any victory over you from what just happened. If you'd given it your all, I think things would've turned out differently. Still, I couldn't resist."

Luke walked up and stood beside his old friend, placing a palm on the Kjoil Knight's shoulder, easing things between them. He could tell Skar was somewhat ashamed of the way he'd approached Luke. They'd only fought once before, and it was a memory they both wanted to forget. But Luke understood why Skar had done it this time. And the friendship, that had grown between them since Skar had come to Coruscant nine years ago, forgave any action.

"I hope it never comes to a real fight between us. And you're right; my mind is occupied. I should almost thank you, you've made me see how stupid I was to come out here."

Skar's face showed no sign of redemption, only his eyes looked alive as they peered into the streets outside, a silent disturbance in his emotions. "I'm happy to have motivated you," he said coldly, making the words sound meaningless and without real intent.

"You can't blame me for being worried."

Skar glanced at him for a second. "You're talking about…the feeling?"

Luke leaned against the window, "You felt it too, I suppose. That cold tremor in the Force." His face darkened. "I felt the deaths of a million people, heard their screams as they cried out in terror with great suddenness. Its only happened once before and back then it was the first cry of the Death Star. It took out Alderaan. A feeling like that…is always an omen that a great evil has returned to our Galaxy."

Luke felt his words were pointless because of course Skar already knew about it. Luke had learned, ever since he'd first heard the name Kjoil, that Skar's touch with the Force was much stronger than any Jedi Master's, even stronger than Luke's own. And certainly stronger than his father, Anakin Skywalker, the late Darth Vader. Possibly Skar could have felt it sooner and much stronger than Luke.

Luke knew, as Skar had once told him at one of their first meetings years ago, that Skar wondered if his Kjoil lineage, which was stronger than the Jedi, meant that he was possible even stronger than his legendary uncle, Skind Kjoil. Skar had bested the clone of Skind Kjoil, but like Skar had said himself; that hadn't been a real battle. The clone hadn't had the same power as Skind, the genes were there, he had the potential, but he hadn't had as good a tutor as Skind. Skind had a longer, more thorough training.

Since Skar had come to Coruscant, since their first meeting nine years ago, Skar had been treated like a legend among the newfound apprentices in the Jedi Order, the famous nephew of the world's greatest Kjoil. It was funny to Luke how people disregarded the fact that the 'legendary' Skind Kjoil had turned to evil in the end, they remembered him for the good, not the bad. It was the opposite with Vader, Luke realized, Vader was remembered as the tyrant of the Galaxy, the greatest evil to fly between the stars.

Skar brought Luke out of his thoughts. "Do you have any clues, Luke?"

"I visited the Senate Chamber the other day, felt a strong presence from one of my former students. The name of one of those that left the Academy on Yavin. Brakiss. I will be taking off to Msst soon, Brakiss' last address." Luke snapped his fingers, remembering why he was in this part of the city in the first place. "What happened to Wedder?"

Then, Skar smiled and Luke's guard was thrown off. A true smile this time, an earnest smile as he turned his face to Luke. And Luke saw the pride radiating behind those blue eyes.

"Rishi's got him."

* * *

The truth was slightly different. In a much lower part of the capital Rishi Kjoil was in hot pursuit of the man. Rishi was sprinting as fast as he could through several broken down corridors which were littered with filth and debris. The tunnels were dark, darker for each level Rishi chased the man through, not to mention more corroded. The man was wearing rugged clothing, the type Rishi would expect from a derelict from a place like this. He hadn't been able to get a good look at the man so far, all he'd seen was the man's back as he chased after him.

Rishi tried not to think of the notion that he'd been after the man for a straight twenty minutes, without any progress of catching up to him. Rishi had the benefit of knowing simple statistics; such as the established fact that no man could run at the pace this man was running for twenty minutes straight, through such an uncharted and rough course as this. Not without either being of Force potential or a professional track runner. The man was neither, which meant he was either severely desperate and motivated, or something else.

Nevertheless Rishi felt confident that he was gonna catch this guy. One of the prime places for finding trouble was, despite what people thought, not in the highest levels of Coruscant, but at the lowest, those just beneath street level. Dressed in civilian clothes, Rishi had been keeping himself unnoticed from the casual pedestrians. The sight of a man walking by with a lightsaber on his hip, wearing a Jedi's cloak, would stir up attention and Rishi didn't want that.

His Master had told him that when he'd been younger on Nar Shaddaa, he'd had to hide his identity as well, most of the time dressing up like a vagabond to dissuade anyone about who he really was. This time Rishi had the blessing of the Force which made hiding from others much easier, he could cloak himself in the Force and people would not even notice him if he subverted their minds, giving him opportunity to go wherever he wanted unseen.

By request from his Master, Rishi had taken up pursuit of the man that Skywalker had been looking for. Rishi had followed the man after hearing from his Master, through the streets of Coruscant, light shining down from above the towering skyscrapers around him. The megalopolis was filled with activity as usual, the streets packed with residents hurrying about their daily routines. Rishi was able to keep the man in sight by assigning him a special feeling amidst the chaos. The man stood out among the innocent as a red glow.

The man had stepped into an alley and disappeared from Rishi's sight for a few seconds. When Rishi had reached the corner of the building and peered around the corner, the man was gone. Rishi had stepped into the alley, examining every detail of it with the Force but he couldn't sense the man's presence anymore. Only one clue had remained. A sewer-drain in the middle of the alley had been opened and a manhole was lying next to it. Rishi had crouched down next to the hole, immediately smelling the horrid stench coming from the sever below, but he was used to the smell from his many days of hunting criminals down there in the dark tunnels.

Then Rishi had looked at the manhole, an object he wouldn't have been able to lift himself without the Force. Rishi had followed the man into the hole and the moment he crashed down into the murky brown water, he sensed danger. He turned his landing into a backwards roll, pulling forth his lightsaber as he came back up. Two lilac beams of light came bearing down on him, but Rishi had raised his lightsaber and deflected both shots perfectly with his blue blade. Since then it had been a hunt through the seedy underbelly of Coruscant.

A quite different world existed beneath the surface of the city-planet. In the lower levels, where sunlight never touched, a maze of artificial lights and flickering holograms. Citizens from above and below intermixed in countless establishments offering escape, anonymity and more than just a hint of danger.

Popular belief was that the underground only boarded mutants and unnatural creatures alike, but there were millions of innocent people down here, whose only crime was the fact that they hadn't been able to maintain the tough requirements of the city above them. They'd lost their money, their families, and had no other hope but to retreat to the horrific conditions below to survive; if you could call it surviving. Desperate men performed desperate actions, he'd seen a lot of criminal acts down here that was spawned from nothing more than futility; people were hungry, people needed money, and the more they lived down here the more reckless and dangerous the options became.

Rishi came around a turn, barely managed to jump over a beggar sleeping quietly up against the wall. He could still spot the man in the distance, a hundred feet ahead of him. Luckily Rishi could see what to expect on the course ahead by looking at the man and seeing what he did, when he jumped, when he turned. Rishi knew his master didn't approve of him spending his days down below the surface hunting the local riffraff like he was some kind of neighborhood watchman.

His Master was wise in many aspects but he was being mired by the very thing he'd promised never to be mired under. His Master had grown soft and weak since they'd ventured to Coruscant together. Master Skar had come with reservations, but still with some honest intent. Rishi however had at the time been careful of what impressions Coruscant laid on him. He'd heard Master Skar's worries and reasons to dislike the place and took them as his own, he had no reasons not to like the place but his Master had not known at the time how easily affected he was. He grew a dislike to the place because Skar had a dislike to the place.

But rather than living with the feeling Rishi had chosen to do the thing he thought his Master would have preferred to do here. He looked out for the little men, the ones who were forgotten in so many talks of politics and treaties. The Senate, the true rulers of the Republic, were wasting their time trying to govern too many things at once. Solutions were forced quickly and no real heart was behind any of the decisions, Rishi thought. Democracy was a joke, just a filler in the news. That was one of the main reasons the underground of Coruscant had become as torn and devastated that it was. The Republic was trying to maintain a status quo in the entire Galaxy but things were wasting away right beneath their own feet.

That was what Rishi was fighting for. He knew he couldn't give these people new homes or better standards or money, but he could give them something that might just save their lives; security. Admittedly he knew he couldn't protect the entire planet, it was just too much ground to cover, but he had no idea at present state which part of the planet he was under. It didn't matter. Trouble was everywhere, he concentrated on those closest. He just followed his instincts and listened to the Force when he had to decide which direction to go. He knew that above a lot of people were hoping to take him out of there because they weren't sure of his intentions and that they didn't trust him but he wasn't gonna let that deter him from what he felt was right.

He had vowed to protect Coruscant, and that meant everyone on Coruscant. There was a fine line, one he sometimes found it hard to read, between evil and good down here. The person he saved one day, might turn around and hit someone over the head the next day for money. But Rishi had abandoned saving everyone, it was just not possible. He preferred to stay in the moment, which was all anyone could do at any point of their lives, in Rishi's mind, where he could do the best help. He let the worrying about the future to his Master.

Rishi dashed by a little hut full of people crowding around a small campfire as the guy forced him to follow him down through an old parking garage for airspeeders. The remaining speeders had been cannibalized to use as shelter, some of them had even been tilted on their side, supported by sticks to use as a home. This was really all the luckiest of them had, and if they were really lucky they wouldn't have to kill each other to get something to eat.

Rishi was getting fed up with this hunt. For half an hour he'd been running after this guy and there had been no progress so far. He was running low on his energy, even though he saw himself as someone with good stamina, this was taking a lot out of him. Maybe it was the poor air conditions down there. Up ahead Rishi believed he spotted a bridge. A sort of connection between the parking garage he was in now and a separate one. It looked really lousy, even for something down here. The concrete slap was cracked in several places and a good third of the bridge was missing and the support struts beneath the bridge hadn't seen repair in many decades, they were possible older than the Emperor had been.

Rishi slowed down his pace, applied some of his Force reserve to his telekinesis talent and stretched out with his mind to the bridge. The concrete slap was very compact, but with a fine selective touch he could break down its structure and pick out the weak spots. And those were the areas he would strike first.

Rishi couldn't take credit for this tactic, he'd remembered his Master talk about certain abilities he'd been able to use to his advantage. However his Master had used his psychometry for something slightly different. He'd been able to read a bridge's entire composure with the slightest touch. Rishi's approach to the task at hand was different, he tweaked one of the lower support struts, at the weakest section, which caused the middle of the bridge to rupture like a giant wound, before colliding in itself and ruining any chance of the perpetrator to use it as an escape.

The man didn't see it until he was too late. Sliding to a halt on his heels the man tripped over and went over the gap, barely managing to get a hold of the edge with his one hand. Rishi ran the last few paces and stopped over the gap, leaned down and offered the man his hand.

"The fall will kill you. Take my hand."

Wedder Dhohji's dusk face was filled with fear and sweat, a panicked expression in his wide open eyes, as he looked up into Rishi's face. Then he glanced at Rishi's hand but didn't seem to want to take it. "I'm already dead!"

Rishi tapped into the Force and read the desperation inside the man, indeed he was afraid. But not about dying. "What are you talking about?"

Wedder looked into the abyss below him, hundreds of miles down. A fall that would not only kill him but would make funeral expenses minimal. Whatever they would recover from him could fit in a contact lens casing. When he looked back up, there was a plea and desperateness to his voice.

"Listen to me! In a month there'll be no Coruscant, no Republic! The Dream! The Sons Of Destiny!"

Rishi sensed the warning in those words, and the fear. It was true fear. This man was not hallucinating, he wasn't making this up. What he said, he actually believed to be true. And knowing that made Rishi start to worry too. "Please - take my hand!"

The man shook his head. Instead he pulled out a datacard from his jacket and tossed it by Rishi's feet. "Take this...to your Master."

Rishi looked down at the card. "My Master? You mean Skywalker, the guy you're running from?"

The man's panicked face shook. "Skywalker can't know…too much at stake!"

Rishi leaned down to pick up the card, then he noticed the calm that came over Wedder's face, just a second before the man started slipping. Rishi ignored the card and jolted to grab the man's hand, hoping to save him for questioning. He touched Wedder's hand for a second, but the man was already lost and he went tumbling into the great abyss below him. Rishi could only watch as the information broker fell into the gray fog, disappearing from his sight, his scream echoing between the two buildings.

Rishi turned his eyes away from the fog, feeling a shred of grief. It wasn't easy to watch a man die, especially when you've felt so close to saving him.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

His eyes caught the datacard lying by his boot, on its surface, drawn with crude red paint, the kind children made drawings with, was a symbol. A symbol Rishi knew all too well. How could he not, since it was tattooed on both his hands, as well as his Master's hands, it was painted on his lightsaber, it was stigmatized into his mind. It was his name.

It was the symbol of the Kjoil.

* * *

The street outside the building felt dead in the Force to Skar, a light breeze blew by, towing a dust-cloud, but there was absolutely no sign that any living thing called this place home. Skar took in a big breath of the dusty air, looking around he saw the buildings, full of decay and seemingly eaten from within by some unknown force, maybe time. He found it hard to believe this place existed in the same place as the capital of the Galaxy. The outside picture of Coruscant was just towering skyscrapers and steel shining like a second sun. This place was so deprived of hope, so empty and cold. Skar didn't understand why Rishi spent much time in places like this, and even worse than this. 

Skar perched himself on the back of Luke's speeder, brought his legs up and hugged them in to his chest. He knew Rishi had found the information broker but the touch had then severed, quickly and too violently for Skar to feel any comfort in the apprehension. It had been long since he'd reached out to Rishi this way and it brought some happy memories and some others, some bad ones, that he wished he could stow away in the back of his mind, so he'd never have to look at them again.

The relationship and friendship between Skar and Rishi was, to say the least, malfunctioning. Rishi had become a rogue, a renegade, he had separated himself from Skar two years ago and they'd not spoken since. It felt so long ago that Skar found it hard to remember what the feud had been about. Recently Skar had called out to Rishi to help Luke find Wedder, it had come as a reflex and Skar remembered the awkwardness that had come after the communication. Reaching out to Rishi for help had come as instinct and the sound of him, the feel of his apprentice in his mind, had almost made Skar cry. He missed the boy so much.

Skar frowned to himself. _He's nineteen, he's no longer a boy. I remember what I was like at nineteen. I was just like him. He's rebelling against authority just like I did, recklessly. Striking out on his own, staking his own claims. Becoming a man._

Skar had felt the inevitable question coming even before Luke brought it out. "Isn't it about time you and Rishi patched up your friendship?"

"Friendship?" The word awoke old memories in Skar, memories of when he'd first met Bo-Hi Dzog on the roof of a building on Nar Shaddaa. The Jedi Master had reacted the same way when Skar had asked him about his relationship with his friend Kayupa. Master Bo-Hi had reacted that way because the companionship between apprentice and master was much stronger than any normal friendship. But Skar found it hard to feel the same way. "I think friends would be a step up from where we are now. A big step," Skar said mournfully, "but its a step I hope we can take together someday."

Luke understood. "People grow apart sometimes, but if the friendship is worth it they find their way back. If you want the friendship back, then work for it."

Skar nodded. "I know. I just don't know where to start. Rishi's arrogant and uncontrollable. He thinks he's gonna save the Galaxy."

Luke smirked. "Be careful what you say, you might tempt irony." Luke's eyes looked over Skar's clothing, drawing a smile on the Jedi Master's lips. "Strange to see you in a Jedi uniform. Must've been a hard decision."

Skar knew Luke was hinting at the dislike Skar had to common Jedi rituals and dogmas, because of his own unique touch with the Force. "Its laundry day. Everything else was dirty."

Luke expected a reply of that nature but took no offence. "When you came to Coruscant, pledging your allegiance to the Jedi Order, I knew how hard it was for you. A commitment to the Jedi Order is not one easily broken. And in your own way you've dealt with it. You haven't done that much work inside the Order. You've stayed outside on your own…I guess I've never really known whether you regretted coming here."

Skar pulled his head down between his kneecaps. "Luke, we're both shaped by the same thing. We both know the Force and we honor it. The problem is I honor it so much that I always doubt if I'm doing what it wants from me."

Luke leaned against the speeder. "Everyone doubts themselves at some point. Even me," he chuckled, "I've made some bad choices at times. I've had to rebuild the Jedi Order because I knew it was my destiny, but I've also doubted how far I would have to go. I'm not going to live forever, and I have to make the best of the time I've been given. The Jedi Academy is running itself mostly, I don't spend much time teaching in person. There are other Jedi Masters now, I've laid the groundwork for the next generation of the Jedi and future generations as well. All we can really do is look to the present and see where we're needed."

Skar lapsed into thoughtful silence. His eyes searching the surroundings, hoping somewhere in all of it an answer was lying in wait. Skar glanced at Luke. "I don't regret joining the Jedi Order, for whatever good I've done in it, but I'm growing weary of it again, doubting it is here I'm still meant to be. I'm having a hard time feeling grounded."

Skar could feel Luke's strong gaze. The Jedi Master must've been sad to hear Skar's thoughts. The two were friends and Skar knew if he'd ever had to leave Coruscant, talking with Luke would be one of his biggest longings. Luke was a good counselor, and a good friend. "Do you feel drawn to another place?"

Skar sighed. "The past."

"The past?"

"I…concentrate on my role in the future, but my thoughts always come back to the past. To where I was before this, to what I've experienced. I can't let go of it."

Luke's voice became soft. "Bad memories?"

Skar reminisced, an old torment pulling itself upon him. "Terrible memories. Nightmares." Skar knew that Luke knew about his past, and the things he'd been through. He knew about Shinran, about Master Bo-Hi, about the Jentarana. About Skind Kjoil and his ghost. And about the clone of Skind Kjoil, though Skar had never revealed the name or the friendship Skar had shared with the clone.

With Kayupa.

Skar hadn't said Kayupa's name out loud in nine years. Almost as horrible as the loss of Shinran, Kayupa was always haunting his soul. Kayupa was a wound that Skar believed would never heal, a pain that was never-ending. Even when he looked in the mirror he saw him there. Kayupa was always crawling beneath his skin, a memory of Skar's determination and his betrayal. No matter how evil Kayupa may have been, Skar felt like a traitor inside for having to kill the man. So much so that Skar was always wary of Luke, the Jedi Master a friend to him, but knowing that Luke couldn't fill the hole inside Skar by half.

Some mornings Skar would wake up, his first instinct to go train with Kayupa. But then the realization would come over him and Skar would fall back onto his pillow, try to fall asleep again, hoping he would wake up the same way and for even that brief moment Kayupa would still be alive. It was the same with Shinran, sometimes when there was a slight wind, he would close his eyes and imagine it was her blowing softly against the hairs on the back of his neck. In the evenings he would tug himself into his sheets, pretending that softness and warmth he felt lying there was her body lying next to him.

Even though Shinran's last words had advised him to move on and forget about the past he couldn't. He'd thought he could but…it was too lonely. Skar had wanted to build a foundation from his past to move forward, but the only advance he had made was his apprentice, and even that venture seemed to have failed. He could also have gone ahead to train the new Kjoil generation but even that seemed doomed in advance to him, he didn't really know where to begin to teach them.

Losing Rishi was one thing, but losing all of the Kjoil because he just wasn't teacher material was a fear he never wanted to see manifested. None of it really mattered to him, not the way he knew it should, for reasons of their own.

Skar didn't know where to turn his attention, didn't know where to devote his strength. All he knew was how to lose himself in the grief that had been with him for a decade, a pain that had always watched over him like a cloud hanging over his head. All that remained of his wishes about what he wanted to do for the future, was how to make the dreams vanish. Nine years it had been, but it felt like yesterday.

He had let Master Bo-Hi die.

Shinran had given her life for him.

He hadn't been able to save Kayupa.

He felt like he had failed them all and that his failure was still growing with each day he spent missing them.

In the end Luke looked down at the street, kicking a small pebble away with his boot. "Come what may, I've always admired you."

Skar made a dry laugh. "Why?"

"Your heritage. You can make choices I can't. You have abilities I don't. Sometimes I've wondered if it should have been you that started the Jedi Academy in the first place. And I still hope at times, you'll one day accept a teaching position there. You could teach the next generation so much."

"Other people just complicate my life," Skar said wryly, "I don't like getting more involved then I have to."

"You sound like Rishi when I asked him the same question."

Luke's words hurt a little. Skar didn't know Luke had kept contact with Rishi. It'd been two years since Skar had last seen the face of his apprentice, but apparently Rishi had stayed in touch with Skywalker since then. Skar felt a tinge of jealousy. Maybe fixing things with the boy wasn't going to happen at all. Rishi had become his own man. There was no reason to think he even wanted to rebuild his relationship with his Master, or that Rishi was even aware of the fact that his apprenticeship wasn't over.

Unlike Skar, Rishi had joined the Jedi Order fully, becoming one of Luke's agents but Rishi's approach to his duty as a Jedi had been slightly unorthodox. Even the Senate was acting against Rishi, fearing he was doing more damage than good. To the ones that lived underground the thought of a Jedi hero that was looking out for them was reassuring, but the Senate was more worried about this young man that was trekking through the city below them, doing things they couldn't monitor. They'd made a huge case of his standoffish behavior towards the Jedi and none of them were ready to trust the young man.

Rishi had made the mistake of publicly announcing his wishes and intentions, while Skar was, officially, as much part of the Jedi order as any Jedi, while off the record he had no involvement whatsoever. Skar had never spoken out on Rishi's behalf, but Skywalker had been forced to stand up for Rishi on numerous occasions, trying to preserve the peace and unity within the Jedi community, and the general community as well. Skar admired that Skywalker bothered to do so, though he knew he wasn't changing anything. This was where Rishi felt he belonged in this time of his life. No Senate and no Skywalker was gonna change that. Skar knew that because he used to be the same way.

Skar had seen a lot of growth in the boy over their nine years together. When Skar had taken him as an apprentice, he'd shown great potential. He'd been able to hold his own against the minions of the Dark Side on Draori, and come out of it alive. He'd shot through most of his training with so much ease that even Luke had suggested if Rishi could help train some of the other students on Coruscant, to help speed up their own progress. Skar didn't for a second imagine that Rishi would ponder such a position, he just wasn't the type, and nor had he. Rishi had abandoned the offer, giving no other explanation to Skywalker than he didn't have the time.

In secret Rishi had confessed he didn't take the job because he felt his Kjoil training, the things he knew, were no good in Jedi training. The Kjoil and Jedi were different in the manner that the Kjoil could act out on their emotions, they could feel anger, and they could feel hate, without suffering the consequences a Jedi would. Skar himself had never been as good as Rishi to separate the two philosophies, mostly because he didn't feel that his anger or fear helped further anything. His training had been a mixture of Jedi and Kjoil, the best of both worlds.

Rishi had always treasured himself, worked to set himself above others. He was still coming into his age, his identity had only just been structured, so he was still very stubborn and always sought to prove himself as the teenager he still was, testing to see if the strength he believed to possess actually existed. And his renegade operations in the underground was a side affect of that. He was playing the lone ranger role that Skar had once played.

The want to be alone and still make a difference, Skar feared Rishi had learned too much from him in that aspect.

"What were you doing out here?" Luke asked, barging through his thoughts.

Skar had no answers. "I...like it out here."

"Here?" Luke looked puzzled. "But its a dead zone."

"I know," Skar said, staring at the ground, "I belong here."

Luke shook his head slowly, watching Skar sit there like a living embodiment of sorrow. "You can't mean that."

"Luke, there's - " Skar felt something moving in the Force, a wave of despair that washed over Luke and Skar. Something intangible, but a feeling Skar had felt before. Skar's hand flew up to grasp the clothing over his heart, anticipating the pain exploding there. He felt like a spear had been driven through it. Grunting in pain he slipped off the speeder and rolled over on his back on the street.

Luke jumped to help him but Skar held up his hand to ward him off. The pain continued through his body, like it was doing a survey of every cell in him. Skar tried using the Force to stop it, but it was no good. The Force couldn't help him. Skar curled up into a fetal position, his teeth barred and his eyes closed shut. The pain reminded him of the time he'd been beaten by aliens on Nar Shaddaa. It was similar, although he wished he was being beaten instead. That way he could confront that which made him suffer.

Gradually the pain seeped out of him, leaving him panting on the ground, slowly unfolding his limbs again and opening his eyes only to be blinded by the sunlight. Skar pushed himself up, still warding Luke off, confident that he could take care of himself.

Skar stumbled over to the speeder, his hand still wrapped around the clothing over his heart. He could still feel residue of the pain there, biting away at his heart. He knew Luke was gonna ask him questions, so he thought he might as well get right to it.

"I don't know."

Luke grimaced. "Why didn't you want me to help you?" he asked hastily.

"I was hoping it would wear off."

"How can you say that when you don't know what it was? It could have been a heart-attack or an influence from the Dark Side? What if it had killed you?"

Skar jumped up onto the speeder and grabbed a flask on the backseat filled with pure blue water. Unscrewing the cap he emptied the contents into his mouth, feeling better, feeling close to alright again. "It didn't kill me the last time." Skar flung the empty flask out into the street, breaking in hundreds of glass shards, the memory of the pain too great for him to care about polluting.

Luke had his arms wrapped around himself. "You've had these attacks before?"

"They're not attacks," Skar said calmly.

"Do you know what they are?"

"Listen, if I tell you this, it stays between you and me," Skar specified, "you can't tell Rishi."

Luke frowned. "You can't ask me to do that, you're my friend. If you need help I'm going to help you. Its not fair to leave Rishi out of it, he cares for you also."

Frowning at those words, Skar felt like calling Luke a liar. "Maybe. Every time it feels like a heart-attack, I don't know what it specifically is, or if I'm doing anything to trigger it. I only know it comes once every few months. It does feel Force-related, although it doesn't seem to respond when I try to block it with the Force." He hoped the words would satisfy Luke's curiosity. Skar might have his own thoughts about what it could be but he didn't feel like telling Luke before he could be sure.

Luke walked over and drew himself inwards. Skar could feel Luke's gentle attempt at breaking his mind-barrier and Skar allowed him. Luke enclosed himself in the Force and searched Skar's body for any irregularities. Skar felt Luke's mind wander inside him and allowed the Jedi Master to trespass every corner of his mind and body to try and find anything that could have caused the trauma. Skar felt his mind being invaded as the Jedi searched his thoughts. Going through them made Skar see them too and the images flashed before him like pictures in a photo-album.

At first it was nothing, just images and feelings from the days before and later the weeks before. Luke went further back into Skar's memory than Skar cared to remember, images of the Jentarana flashed before his eyes, making Skar's hands twitch. A picture came of Kayupa and then it was gone again, leaving Skar momentarily saddened. The images of Nar Shaddaa and of Lwen were welcome, but images further back than then he didn't recognize. There were things in there even he didn't remember and wondered as to why he'd never tried searching his own mind before.

One image emerged; a woman. The picture was hazy at best but he could make out her courageous smile and her sad eyes. And his father, although much more blurred than the picture of his mother, but Skar could feel the presence of his father. He stood behind her as they both looked upon him, both of them very distraught and clearly affected by something. The image disappeared and Skar thought that was the end of it, but Luke went even further -

Without warning Luke's probe stopped, and Skar opened his eyes to see again. Luke Skywalker was lying on the street, still alive, but something had thrown him back onto the ground. Skar rushed to help him stand, and Luke came up, shaking his head in amazement and confusion. Skar helped Luke to sit on his speeder as the Jedi Master recovered.

"What happened?"

Luke was still shaking his head. "I'm not sure," he said calmly, "I think I hit a wall, a barrier in your mind. Maybe I went too far. I didn't find anything."

Skar expected as much but was more occupied with making sure Luke was okay. He couldn't believe the Jedi Master had been flung back like that. "A barrier?"

"Things in your past I can't read. Its nothing, most people whose minds I've touched have them. When you go back later than the person remembers, the mind resists. All Jedi have mental defenses against probing any…uncomfortable memories."

Skar sat next to Luke and didn't know if he should apologize to Luke for what had happened. It wasn't like he'd done it on purpose.

Luke looked over at Skar, a careful edge to his glance. "Maybe…you've inherited a genetic flaw from your parents."

Skar felt skeptical. "Like what?"

"There are many diseases in the Galaxy. Maybe you should go to a med-station and have your blood checked out. It could be nothing, or it could be everything. I really think its the wisest choice."

Skar nodded, maybe Luke was right. "The attacks have come often as of lately for some reason. Increasing in pain every time."

Luke shook Skar's shoulder roughly for encouragement. "Whatever it is, go see someone. If its been recorded before, we have the best medical staff here on Coruscant, I'm sure they can help you. Meditate on it," he added, almost by reflex.

Skar nodded but didn't agree. "You know I don't meditate, Luke. It doesn't work on me."

Luke shrugged, still affected by the push that had knocked him to the ground. He was settling himself in the Force, regaining his former concentration and focus. Then he got up and shook himself off before saying, "I mentioned earlier that I'd be leaving for Msst soon. Unless Wedder has anything to tell me, I'll be leaving tomorrow." Luke cleared his throat. "If you hear from Rishi, tell him to contact me if he has any information."

Skar nodded slowly, the sound of Rishi's name always made him downshift in moods. "You're leaving now?"

"This place yes, but I won't be leaving Coruscant until tomorrow. There's some problems with the X-wings right now, routine maintenance ordered by General Antilles. I wanted to leave sooner but I can't. Seems like its all happening at once."

Skar waved him off. "Don't worry about me. You focus on Brakiss," Skar swallowed the bitter lump in his throat, "and if I hear from Rishi I'll pass him on to you." Skar's voice took on a much darker tone. "Though I think he'd report to you first before he reported to me."

True enough Luke's comlink began buzzing. Luke pulled it from his belt and clicked it on. "Skywalker."

The young voice that came through on the other end, a voice Skar had once been so used to, now sounded like a complete stranger. "…Master Skywalker, it's Rishi, I've found Wedder, or rather I had found him. He's dead now."

"How?" Luke asked.

Rishi's response was a little slow. "…he took a long walk off a short bridge. I tried saving him, but he seemed intent on it happening. But he did leave behind something. A datacard. I haven't been able to see what's on it. I think we should check it out. It might have something to do with the bombing of the Senate."

Skar and Luke exchanged glances.

"Master Skar is there with you, isn't he?" Rishi asked.

"Yeah, he's right here," Luke replied. "Do you want me to bring him?

"Yeah, this involves him too. I can tell the card is encrypted. I know someone who can decrypt it for me. I'll meet you…the usual place. I'll call you once I've got the card decrypted."

"Okay."

Rishi signed off and Luke put the comlink away. The Jedi Master noticed Skar sat staring at the ground, a weakness about the way his shoulders were slumped. "What's wrong?"

Skar glanced at him. "You have a usual place?"

Luke smirked. "Rishi is a very capable Jedi. He's been able to provide me with intelligence before. I trust him and value his help." Luke folded his cloak around him. "Rishi is still growing, you have to allow him to make his own decisions in life. He has to follow his own path."

"Right," Skar said wryly. "Can I hitch a ride with you back to the city?"

"Sure."

Skar hopped into the speeder's passenger seat, while Luke took the controls. He powered up the repulsorlifts and the speeder hovered above the street, blowing dust into the air, then they sped off, climbing in altitude until the condemned part of the city was nothing more than a memory in their minds. The air felt cooler this high up, due to the wind blowing in their faces.

Luke had to raise his voice for Skar to hear him. "Any special place you want me to drop you off?"

"The training center," Skar replied.

Luke cast him a curious glance. "Why do you go there each day?"

Skar stared ahead, knowing the answer wouldn't please Luke. "Its _my _meditation. I have a feeling I'm going to be needing my reflexes soon, just a precaution."

"These are troubled times, Skar, but the Force will guide us."

"Yeah," Skar replied emotionlessly. _But guide us where?__

* * *

_

Coming out of hyperspace, the _Civilian_, a modified Quasar Fire-class bulk cruiser, slowed its progress and drifted slowly above the white orb that was Regana. Its captain, a man named Jovis, monitored the planet with a look of resignation across his face from inside the bridge. He'd been to the repair yard once before, back then for repairs, but he had no idea he would ever see it again. Especially not for the kind of task he'd undertaken.

The first thing he noticed was that all the orbital repair stations had been shut down, their black hulls floating lifelessly in space above the giant white planet. Last time he'd been there, the space around Regana had been alive with dozens of large cruisers and frigates, hundreds of small insectoid skips fluttering back and forth while they repaired hull damage and other injures the ships had sustained. The space around Regana was quiet, the only activity being a pair of starfighters flying in patrol patterns, streaking across the planet at full speed.

A pair of them moved off from their pack to intercept the _Civilian_, but Jovis wasn't too concerned. He hailed the two fighters before they had the chance.

"This is the captain of the _Civilian_. I've been...summoned."

No answer came immediately. Jovis assumed the pilots were checking his claim with their superior. Meanwhile Jovis turned to his second in command. "Keep the weapons systems ready, we don't know what to expect."

The subordinate, a robust Arkanian, followed his orders and voiced his own concern in a low voice. "You do not trust the Bothan?"

_There's a contradiction in terms_, Jovis thought. "Bothans are the very hands of deception."

"Then why are we here?"

Jovis had pondered at that one too. Jovis was the leader of a small weapons-for-hire faction; mercenaries. Lately the Republic had been putting an end to most of his long time clients. Money was running low and his crew needed money. The Bothan's proposal had been a blessing truly, one long overdue, but Jovis was not the religious type. Bothans were well known for their inability to stay loyal to anything except money and themselves.

If this terrorist group needed some backup in taking on the Republic, Jovis was more than happy to put in his effort. Right now, fifty mercenaries were lounging in their quarters onboard the _Civilian_. Recently they'd begun to complain about the lack of money flowing to them. As their leader they trusted Jovis to find opportunities and profit for them. It wasn't his fault the Republic was tightening their reins and reducing the lack of jobs for people like him.

If the Bothan hadn't shown up when he did, Jovis's head would have lying in a sewer somewhere and his body in an entirely different system. Mercenaries got paid to kill, so in a way it would have been a compliment that they would kill him for free. Just like Bothans, mercenaries thought only of themselves. And this bunch was especially bad. A ragtag crew of misfits who lived only to fight and to kill in the name of the mighty credit.

Jovis sighed. "Desperate times. We can't afford to be too choosy anymore."

The Arkanian glanced down at his screen as a blip appeared on their tactical readout. "Captain, another ship has entered the system."

Curious about the whole situation, Jovis decided to do a little investigation to learn more about his new employers. He walked to stand behind his subordinate, reading over his shoulder. "Can you tell me where it came from?"

The man tapped a few commands on his station, then shook his head. "Unknown Regions, that's all I can say for sure." Then he looked at a separate screen, to see the one blip now changed into five. "Incoming signal has broken off into five separate signatures."

Jovis's eyes widened. "What?"

"Each unit the size of a Star Destroyer - but _not _Star Destroyers."

"Do you recognize the signature?" Jovis started walking towards the viewport to see these ships for himself.

"No, sir. I've never seen anything like it. It's…" The Arkanian looked up at the viewport to see the ships for himself. "There!"

When Jovis's eyes finally found the ships creeping their way around the corner of his viewport, he had to step back, stumbling into an unwanted seating in his command chair. The ships were huge, precisely the length of a Star Destroyer, one point six kilometers of steel, but almost three times as high. Wide as a Destroyer also the ship however possessed a profoundly different design. At first glance Jovis would have resorted to calling it a living creature, but the huge tail of engine exhaust trailing it betrayed that notion.

The slug-like design was what had made Jovis designate it as living, the whole ship portrayed a giant worm crawling through space, at one million times the speed of a normal worm albeit. The hull was painted pitch black which contributed to its impressive build, since the darkness of space almost worked as a natural cloaking device for the ship.

If they hadn't been so close to it, Jovis doubted they would have been able to see it. Along the oval shape of the ship were bulges on its surface, each of these irregularities bristled with small dots of light that Jovis suspected were viewports, and that the light was coming from inside the ship. As far as he could tell there were no hangar openings; which meant this ship couldn't carry starfighters.

That worried Jovis, if a ship that size wasn't meant to carry starfighters, how else would it protect itself? If it was only meant to carry personnel, troops and soldiers, and a Star Destroyer could carry up to almost fifty thousand people, why would this terrorist group need his fifty mercenaries?

"I have a very bad feeling about this."

The other man consented. "I do not blame you. The ship - ships are designated _Watchmen 1 _to _5_."

"Can you give me an estimate of people onboard?"

The man checked his readings and made a suspicious frown. "Four of them have only thirty or so people onboard, standard skeleton crew. But _Watchmen 3_ - is packed to the brim. Readings say some twenty thousand lifeforms onboard."

Jovis corrected him. "That's not even close to stuffing a ship of that size. Something else is onboard the other four ships, enough to take up the entire ships. _Watchmen 3 _must be the only one carrying troops." Jovis swallowed. "Twenty thousand people? That's not a terrorist group - that's an army!"

The Arkanian nodded. "The unpacked _Watchmen _could be carrying their ground vehicles, walkers and speeders."

Jovis wasn't so sure. "There are no hangar openings. Unless they plan to peel the ship open, they can't get something like a walker or a speeder off the ship." Jovis stepped closer to the viewport to inspect the ship. "Maybe the ship's themselves are weapons...these terrorists have something up their sleeves."

"The _Watchmen _are unarmed. They'll be useless in battle."

"Maybe that's what we're meant to think. Deception has killed as many people as direct assaults have." Jovis was beginning to wonder if turning back and leaving was the best course of action. Whatever was going on here he wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of it. But how would he explain that to fifty armed lunatics in short of credit?

Jovis watched as the fleet of five slugs crawled past the patrol ships and made their way through the atmosphere, their black shapes looking like dark clouds over the white orb of Regana.

"Sithspawn - what's going on around here?" he muttered to himself.

Four starfighters lined up on both his sides, one of them so close Jovis could see the pilot waving back at him. Soon afterwards a male voice crackled over the comm. "_Red Knight _Lead here. _Civilian_, you are cleared for approach. The General sends his warmest regards for your aid in our struggle."

Jovis cleared his throat before answering. Deciding to find out more in a more subtle way. "We're happy to help out brothers in spirit. Its about time the Republic learned their lesson."

The comm stayed silent for a long time, then a short laugh broke though. "Very well," the pilot coldly replied, giving no definite lead for Jovis to go on, "follow my tail through the atmosphere. Be wary, the winds are no joke."

Jovis settled into his captain's seat, and nodded to his second in command. The _Civilian _fired up its engines and followed the single starfighter prancing around outside the viewport. Jovis tried to think of one reason why he didn't blast the starfighter out of the screen, and run for the nearest hyperjump. Swallowing his worries, Jovis found he couldn't find one good reason.

He could find fifty.

"Lead the way, _Red Knight_."

The comm answered, and the words felt more like a warning than a greeting to Jovis. "Welcome to Regana."

* * *

Junn had forgotten how easily time was wasted when she was bored. How quickly the hours passed her by, never to be recaptured. To her, feeling bored felt like an alarm going off in her head that her capable resources were being wasted. 

That alarm was blaring now.

Junn stepped through the sealed hatch into the recently redesigned storage room. The hatch lead her out onto a narrow walkway above the storage room which had been emptied of the supplies and weapons to make room for the hundred hostages. Packed like fish in a can, there they all were, their scared and tired eyes looking up at her, their former colleague, as she paraded her way out to the center of the walkway above their heads.

Two soldiers patrolled the walkway always, keeping their alert eyes trained on the hostages in case of trouble. Although all the doors in and out of the storage had been welded shut, and it was no job for bare hands to open, it was only wise to have guards posted.

Actually there were only ninety-eight hostages. Junn and Derrik were the only ones that'd worked here who was not imprisoned in the dank escape-free storage room. A week had passed since she'd betrayed Derrik and the Hope's Haven repair yard into the hands of the terrorist group. She'd planned the takeover for months in advance, this repair yard a vital part of a scheme that had yet to bloom to its true form. A scheme in which she herself had been part of planning, and in which she played a strong part.

Six months ago she'd obtained her position as chief supervisor of the facility after she'd handed in an impressive looking résumé, complete with grades at the top of her class and many letters of recommendation. She'd been the best in her class at the academy.

It was, of course, all fake. She had no education in supervising a facility such as this, therefor she could never have been the top of her class, in an academy that didn't even exist. Derrick's loins had been the most convinced, and some might say the easiest to convince, when he'd given her the job. She didn't mind knowing her looks had gotten her the job. It was an invited assurance, but she'd never really doubted her appearance to be appealing to the opposite sex. Which had at some times made her real profession and education a little troublesome.

She was the squad leader of the Sons of Destiny army, and only one man was above her in rank. The true leader of the Sons of Destiny had handpicked her as his most trusted lieutenant, and he'd trained her vigorously for the past thirteen years, ever since the Battle of Endor. He'd insisted on her spending her time training the other soldiers, rather than training herself. But she'd always believed that a person such as her, a warrior, could never learn everything. Her leader was a true genius in her mind, so she'd continued to spend time training and learning from him, while also training the soldiers afterwards, passing on the very knowledge to them, that she'd only learned the days before.

She would never finish her training, and she would rather die than ever acknowledge there was nothing more to learn. All warriors were fated to die on the battlefield, but she would prove otherwise. If she would ever claim to know everything there was to know about combat, then the day she died at the hands of an enemy, would be a disgrace. A soldier could never learn everything.

The two soldiers saluted her and she answered them with a crisp nod, barely giving them the attention they'd hoped to receive from their superior. Being a woman had made her job rough when she'd joined the army but she'd proven her abilities enough to make anyone else in the army draw away from her. They didn't see her as a woman anymore, she was their drill sergeant. It worked for both parties, she wanted respect, not admirers.

Junn leaned against the railing with both hands, sent a small smile down to all the people she'd betrayed. One of them threw a shoe at her, drawing the attention of the two soldiers who traced the shoe with their rifles, but discounting it the moment it flew past her, not even close of hitting her.

Junn retorted with a sigh. "Such foolishness won't benefit anyone."

"Traitor!" one of them shouted.

"What do you think will happen once the Republic finds out about this?" a voice cried from among the masses. "They're not going to give in to your demands! Its against their policy!"

Junn understood the man and he was right. That's why it was so easy for her to draw on a vicious smile and support herself against the railing, looking down upon them, knowing what they did not. Knowing the facts that made the entire situation anything but predictable.

"What demands?"

The mutterings and curses amongst the hostages drowned out, like the sound of the silence after an explosion. Junn took great pleasure in their confusion. They would all understand what was going on at this station eventually, that was why she was here. It didn't matter what they thought, or what their stereotypical pictures of terrorists were. The General had informed her to deliver the truth to the hostages, one that would quiet them and make them cooperative.

Very cooperative.

"As you will note, you're all here." Junn held out her arms to include every last hostages. "None of you have been armed or injured. And as long as you don't rebel against our control, you stay that way. Many of you knew me before this debacle and to those of you, I apologize. From now on you will know me...as Eulogy," a codename given to her among the ranks of the army, "I have betrayed your trusts and manipulated many of you. To those of you who until now wasn't even aware that I'd worked here," she smirked," it is a big place after all, the others will tell you all you need to know."

A single man shouted. "Tell us what's going on here! What is it you want! Who are these people!"

Junn took in a big breath. "They are the Sons of Destiny," she said as if it explained everything. "We are crusaders, an army, until a week ago without a home."

"You're making this place your base?"

"Not quite," Junn stated. "Just temporarily. Then the repair yard will be back in your hands and life will be back to normal. But we are using it as a station. A station from which the Sons of Destiny will mount their attack."

And so Junn continued to talk for another hour, explaining the details of their plan and their effort there. Making sure that any question was answered and that everybody was left feeling that they hadn't been kept in the dark. This was the boredom she had feared. As a veteran soldier she knew that once hostages had been taken, you couldn't just ignore them. Most of the time you'd have a few heroes on your hands and then stupidity would follow like an infection among the others.

It was important to let them understand everything, make them feel safe, as much as was possible. The hostages watched and listened with mixed skepticism. Some called her a lunatic, others shushed so they could hear everything, but in the end everyone had a face that portrayed confusion. It wasn't important if they understood the capacity of the Sons of Destiny or not, it was only important they understood the reasons behind their capture. And Junn had explained to them why it was so important. Why the mission the Sons of Destiny had chosen for themselves was paramount.

Once the 'interview' was over, Junn departed the storage room, running into a lonely officer who saluted her and handed her a datapad. She read the tiny screen, it was a report on a new batch of ships that had entered the system.

The rest of their army.

As well as a single cruiser, the _Civilian_, their newfound mercenaries allies. Junn was reminded of the Jovis's group. A motley crew of homicidal maniacs who looked like they were the reason behind the term gun-control. Their presence she could do without, but she didn't doubt her General's reasons. If he deemed them necessary, they were that. Still, the thought of a guns-for-hire group in the middle of their well-trained army went uneasy with her. As long as she wouldn't have to deal with them, she was fine.

Junn smiled affectionately. The General had wanted her to see this. She had no authority or responsibilities within the fleet, it didn't really effect her work that the rest of their army and its supplies had arrived, but that wasn't what the General had intended her to know. There was a special message at the bottom of the screen.

Without thanking the officer, Junn sprinted down the hallways of Hope's Haven, letting out uncharacteristic whoops of joy as she ran towards the main hangar. She passed many guards and stationary troops on the way who greeted her with the proper salutes, but her mind was too joyful to notice their perfect example of soldiery.

Her two best friends in life had arrived to Regana. It was rare for her to feel this amount of exhilaration, her days were cramped with training and focusing her energy, meditating and planning for the days ahead. Making sure everything was in line for their plans. She'd been too busy the last week to have even thought of them, and was slightly embarrassed. She promised to herself that she would make it up to them. It was a nice change of pace for her to be able to relieve herself of the boredom for a change and spend time with her friends.

She made it to the hangar, just in time to see the ramp lowering beneath the mammoth _Watchmen_. The worm-like ship was taking up two thirds of the hangar, the other _Watchmen _were unloading in other hangars or out in the snow. They were dropping off the last shipment of supplies, with enough foodstuff to last them three months on Regana if necessary. Also included were the rest of their armament, with enough firepower to have outmatched the Rebellion, had it been 15 years earlier.

The Sons of Destiny would have had the advantage over the ancient Rebellion that their troops were not just your average desert-boy that suddenly thought he wanted to make a change for himself. The soldiers in her ranks were trained since childbirth, manipulated into being soldiers. Most of them had held a firearm between their hands before they'd picked up their first toy.

Junn ran to the bottom of the ramp and peered up inside the hold of the freighter to see them. Two figures came walking down the ramp to meet her, both of them with excited smiles on their faces. Junn could barely contain herself anymore, and she became surprised at how giddy she, the squad leader of the Galaxy's most advanced army, must've seemed.

When they reached the bottom of the ramp she wanted to hug them both and thank them for coming. The woman with the golden hair walked right past her, carrying a large crate in her hand that excused her lack of a salute. The man saluted Junn with his free hand and then the moment came.

The man handed Junn her two most trusted and loyal friends. Junn grabbed the case from his hands and immediately crouched down to open it. Inside, cradled in smooth red leather laid two blaster pistols that she'd fashioned to her needs over years of detailing and studying, assessing them after their uses and redesigning them. Underneath each barrel sat a small rocket-dart launcher which could fire armor-piercing rockets that could be filled with enough explosives to take down an AT-AT, or enough poison to make a rancor topple over in two seconds.

Junn picked them up, swirled them on her trigger fingers, feeling the delight of their weight in her hands again, feeling the soft leather on the grips, feeling the trigger against her skin. Feeling in control, feeling strong. Also in the casing were two belt-straps and holsters for the guns. She picked them up and strapped them to her thighs and holstered the guns. Then she nodded to the male soldier and dismissed him.

Minutes later Junn opened fire with both her blasters, shifted her weight to the left, and her enemy clinched before he fell down with several puncture wounds in his belly and chest. Junn pivoted on her right heel, blasting through another enemy's body and tearing open the ankles of the third with blaster fire.

Junn swirled her guns joyously and moved on across the bridge. Two speeders blinded her with their searchlights as they charged to run her down. Junn felt the ferrocrete bridge shake beneath her as the vehicles closed in on her. When they were close enough, she bent down in her knees and jumped up into the air. The left speeder drove under her leap and continued driving behind her.

The right speeder's driver was pounded by twin salvos of red needles and his body fell off the speeder. Junn landed gracefully as the second speeder continued driving, ramming into the first speeder, and killing its driver in a flaming inferno. Both speeders exploded in a trail of fire, sending shadows of the bridge's frame dancing over Junn's dark cloaked body.

She smiled at the carnage then moved her finger to tap twice on the small pad on her left temple. The entire bridge, the fire, the wrecked speeders, and the dark night jumped before her eyes before vanishing in a small specter of white light.

Junn pulled the goggles off her eyes and dried the sweat from her brows. Nearby a technician sat hunched over his computer outside the simulator.

He glimpsed once at Junn then rechecked his screen. "Why did you disconnect? The scenario isn't finished."

Junn positioned the goggles on the small box by her feet, and unhooked the wires that connected her to the simulation hardware. "Too easy. Can't you give me something tougher? The rain and darkness was a nice touch but with the night-vision it was pointless. You have to be more creative next time."

The simulator zone was a huge cage of connecting power-lines and sensors that read her movements and fed them to the computer. She stood in the middle of a metal frame in the shape of sphere, with wires everywhere. Her body was dressed in a green, smooth suit. The fabric felt elastic on her skin and she could move just as easily if she were naked. She sometimes felt naked when she trained in the VR, but it was a small price to pay to know she hadn't lost his combat-sense and her mended-to-perfection fighting skills.

She was a trained warrior, and she wanted to stay that way.

The technician shook his head and started tapping feverishly on his keyboard. "Listen, Junn - "

"Eulogy," she stated firmly, "you will adress me as Eulogy."

The technician nodded. "Alright, Eulogy; this program cost a fortune and uses about the same amount in power. You don't just unplug and then ask for a new scenario. I don't choose the scenarios, you know that. And the General has a fit every time someone, just like yourself, complain about the expensive programs being boring. So if I load a scenario, you better work it or you might as well not come, because you're not getting a new one. So just shut up, and plug back in."

Junn smiled. This man was one of the three only people in the world who could allow himself to raise his voice at her. "But I need something more than playing cops and robbers on a rainy bridge at night. That's kid stuff! Give me something new."

The technician wasn't intimidated by the warrior, but he caved nonetheless to save himself from becoming more stressed. Standing up against Junn usually led to an ulcer. "Fine, suit up, and I'll give you something interesting."

Junn plugged herself back into the computer and put her goggles back on. "Remember; something hard. Like an AT-AT or a group of X-Wings."

The technician sneered at Junn when the goggles were over her eyes, confident that she wouldn't see it. "Any special weapons you want or just the guns?"

Swirling the guns on her fingers, they too had small sensors implanted to track their motions, Junn's lips formed a feral smile beneath the edge of the goggles. "Just the guns, as always."

The technician typed in the weapon's roster and selected the blasters as the only weapon for Junn's scenario. He looked at another screen, and read aloud the incoming message there. "Oh, the General wants to inform you that the package has been delivered, and that we should start to see effects very soon."

The guns stopped swirling, freezing in her hands.

_It won't be long now_. Soon enough her daredevil smile was back in place. "Very well. Carry on."

The simulation started and Junn immersed herself in an artificial world, an unspeakable anticipation in her heart that her guns would soon see real action. Things were starting to happen. With the recent package delivered on Coruscant, the Republic would soon know of their intentions, of their occupancy of this station. However it went from there was up to Coruscant High Command. Junn wished they could see things through the Republic's eye, see what was happening.

She hated the downtime.

* * *

As the lift descended to the floor of the small cramped hold the _Civilian _had been assigned, Jovis checked the clip in his blaster, before stepping off his ship. Reluctantly he moved further away from the ship, trying to appear unsuspicious while observing as much of the place as he could, trying desperately to find some clues as to what kind of deal he'd gotten the rest of his group into. 

Hope's Haven hadn't seemed all too different from the outside. So he'd figured most of their 'redecoration' had been to the inside. If a terrorist group, even one large enough to qualify as an army, was to take over a place as big as this, they would have to make some alterations somewhere, to prevent intrusion. And to the make the place as impregnable as possible.

But so far Jovis had seen so signs of any such changes. Even the hangar, a stereotypical lousy room with four walls housing a spaceship, a coating of dust across everything and a few tools on a table in the corner, looked unaffected by its new owners. Nothing had been changed. Which made Jovis even more edgy.

The fifty mercenaries staggered out behind him, their grumbled and occasionally drunk mumbling making Jovis cringe. The guys that had hired them were clearly professionals. He didn't want them to terminate the contract because his mercenaries were a bunch of drunken trigger-happy morons. But what could he say?

They _were _morons.

His Arkanian subordinate came down the ramp lift beside him, his own eyes wary of everything. At least there was one man in the group Jovis could count on to be as alert as him. Arkanians were basically very intelligent people. Though not quite human, because of their solid-white eyes and four-fingered hands, Jovis didn't find much else separating him from Akla Jawk.

Akla carried with him a sense of dignity as he stepped off the lift, gathering his cloak around him, appearing unsettled with the situation. Jovis could only help but wonder why someone as intelligent as an Arkanian was doing in a place like this. There was a slight bonus in having an Arkanian around, their eyes saw only infrared, very handy in a shootout, and to spot enemies from afar.

Jovis looked to Akla and whispered, "try to get some of them to straighten up a little, huh?" Jovis didn't like putting the burden on the other man's shoulders, and he knew the suggestion wouldn't be of any use. But he had to appear somewhat aware of the lousy condition his men were in.

If not to them, at least to the man standing at the edge of the hangar. Wearing an old long brown coat, hood draped over his shoulders, hands tucked into the pockets, the man stared straight across the hangar at Jovis, his eyes seemingly studying him, assessing his every move. Jovis could tell the man was military just by the look of him, and if not military, then certainly with military-like experience.

The man was wearing black military boots beneath the coat, that much he could tell, but everything else was hidden under it. Except for the face, from the mouth and up. The coat had a collar that looked almost like armor, protective gear for his throat. The hardened edge around the man's examining gaze suggested this one wasn't happy about his shipment. Jovis swallowed his pride and started to walk towards him with careful steps.

"I gave the Bothan specific instructions!" the man shouted high enough for everyone to hear, even before Jovis was halfway. "Looks like my instructions weren't clear enough!"

Jovis bit himself in the tongue in fear of how his crew would respond to someone out-shouting their drunken mutterings. Not wanting to know, Jovis decided to talk before they could. "They may not look like it, but they got it when it counts." Jovis reached the man, noting the cropped silver hair that gave the man a certain air of experience, the scar across his cheek and the broad shoulders of a military man.

Jovis held out his hand. "I'm Jovis - "

The man stepped forward, crossing the already short distance between Jovis and him, getting right up in his face, that simple movement sending shudders down Jovis's spine, ending his sentence before he could even finish his name. Though the man seemed heavy in his shape, his movement was quick and almost silent. The man's face looked like a snake, a cunning in his devilish eyes. A hidden streak of genius behind those eyes and that scar that outdated anything Jovis had ever seen.

The man turned his back to the mercenaries, keeping his side to Jovis. "I was looking for soldiers, not rejects."

Jovis understood the man's worries, he had them too. "I'll admit they appear unprofessional. But I've worked with these men for a long time. Business is lagging, everyone is taking damage."

The man's face was filled with indifference. "Didn't your group used to be called _Jovis's Eighty_? What happened to the last thirty?"

It was an insult, as clear as sunlight on Tatooine, and Jovis took it as it was, instead of trying to defend himself in a situation where he was clearly outmatched. "If our help is not wanted - "

"Its not a matter of whether or not your help is wanted. If it wasn't you wouldn't be here. The question is; can you deliver?"

Jovis dried his sweaty palms on his sleeves as he crossed his arms. "When do you need us operational?"

The man smiled shrewdly, clearly eyeing a new opportunity for an insult. "Oh, I wouldn't dare make any...optimistic estimation on account of what I've seen." And there it was. "Report to me when, or should I say, if you think your men are ready for duty."

Jovis nodded. "Deal."

"However in a week, if they're not ready, you can kiss the payment goodbye."

Jovis cherished the hidden information in that sentence, a week. A week until whatever this terrorist group was planning would reveal itself. "They will be ready within the week, count on it."

The man's expression showed he expected nothing other than trouble with the mercenaries, as he leaned his face closer to Jovis. "I do count on it."

Akla came up beside Jovis, standing behind him, observing everything in his own silence. However the man noticed the move, and began to study him as well, his eyes empty for a moment, as if he tried to recall the name of the species.

"Arkanian."

_Ten points_, Jovis thought.

Akla bowed respectfully.

The man turned his eyes back to Jovis. "There's some merit to a man who outranks an Arkanian. They are well-known for their intellect."

Akla took the comment well. "Thank you."

The man wasn't finished. "They are also well-known for their self-indulgence, their arrogance. The Yaka could attest to that."

It was an insult, a testing of Akla. The Arkanians hailed from a planet called Arkania. A planet rich in minerals, especially diamonds. It was through this export that the Arkanians came into contact with the outside world. Through this newfound wealth the Arkanians became masters of cyborg technology and, in a moment of sheer self-gratification, bestowed it upon themselves to help out the feeble-minded Yaka who lived on a world nearby, turning them into cyborgs, thinking it was their responsibility and duty to change the Yaka, to change their very nature. Many Arkanians protested this action, but their government approved of it nonetheless. In the end the action would backfire on them as Arkania broke into civil war.

The man was testing Akla's response to that memory, Jovis guessed. He was however surprised at how the man was able to call up a memory of something so distant so fast. Jovis knew only of the revolt through his friendship with Akla, if he'd never met Akla, he would never have known that useless knowledge.

Akla's face was neutral, though Jovis thought he spotted a hidden resentment in the look of his eyes, a change only someone who knew him would be able to spot. "You know of our past." It wasn't a question.

The man smirked fiendishly and as he ranted on, Jovis got the notion the man might have been a schJunnr. His words sounded true, even if Jovis didn't know if they were. "A universe is truly worthy of pity when its inhabitants are so unconscious they make life a commodity, mercy a disease, and systematic massacre a pastime and profession."

If this man was bluffing, he was the best Jovis had ever seen.

Akla however was losing the struggle. "Why do you care about the Yaka?"

The man turned his evil eyes on the Arkanian, glaring down at the near-human as if the very presence of him disgusted the man. "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter. Deceiving someone for their own good is a responsibility that should be shouldered only by gods." The man shifted his gaze to Jovis after a while, letting the words hang between them. "Come." With that, letting his distaste for the Arkanians hang in the air, the man turned and started to leave the hangar.

Jovis felt his cue to follow to be unmistakable. Akla decided to join him, which surprised. Outside the hangar a separate room expanded into a circular anteroom with nothing but a round couch, draped in black leather, in the center of the room. A fixture of tall green plants hovered from the ceiling above the couch, long vines curling upwards up to reach the sunlight piercing down through a skylight above them, reaching out and making the ceiling look like the inside of a jungle.

Jovis was sure this was new. "You've redecorated."

"Its important for my men to feel as home as possible. We're in this for a long run. As you'll see later, I've made many changes to Hope's Haven."

It crossed Jovis's mind to ask for the man's name, and to ask why his fifty mercenaries were even needed when they clearly had an army of over twenty thousand soldiers, but he never got that far. The man stepped to the side, revealing a very attractive woman with long dark hair sitting in the couch behind him, her side to them as she sipped wine from a glass. The man halted by her feet, and their eyes met for a second, a very tense second, before he turned his attention back to Jovis. "The fee. One hundred thousand."

Jovis took his eyes off the woman, who despite being almost as old as the man himself, still looked stunning. "What about it?"

"Do you find it…reasonable?"

Jovis found it to be fair, it was in the same league as he'd been paid before. He didn't feel like selling himself short. "We haven't discussed the nature of our employment, or longevity. Usually we don't - " Jovis couldn't help steal a glance at the woman, " - bunk down with our employers so I'm guessing this is more than an attack on someone. Since you've asked my group to be ready within a week, I'm guessing this will be the battlefield. That our attackers will come to us."

The man nodded. "They will. Although it may be longer than a week. We don't know for sure. But no more than a month. Until that month has transpired your men will stay here, under my command. Once the month is over, those in your group still alive may share the one hundred thousand however they want."

Jovis felt brave. "Who is our target?"

The woman in the couch made a short snicker, before sipping her wine, an amused look on her face. The man didn't even budge, his presence remained the same hard statue. "Our aggressors are a group of people who have been laying a cloud of deception over our Galaxy. A reign that want this Galaxy entirely for their own greedy ends, unashamed of the people they deceive in the process. Careless to the damage they've done already." The man smiled. "And until a week ago oblivious to our rebellion against them."

Jovis allowed himself a curt smile. The New Republic. "Why us?"

"Why your group? My Bothan liaison on Coruscant assured me you were the cream of the crop."

Jovis felt slightly proud.

"But you're long overdue for a harvest," the man quickly added. "However, as of now, actions have been made that restrain us from going back on our contract. I have already initiated the first move in this coming battle. We should start seeing results soon enough."

Jovis wondered if he was entitled to ask. "The first move?"

"I've relayed a document to the Republic that will inform them of our intentions. I'm anxious to see how they respond. How they will react to our declaration of occupancy."

Jovis felt the sweat running down his back. "Occupancy? You're starting your own government?"

This time the woman answered, her figure slender and delicate in a skintight flightsuit, as she strolled over to stand beside the three men. "Its time for change. The Republic no longer has the merits to protect our Galaxy in the years to come. We need to denounce the Republic and take our place as Galaxy protectors." Her voice seductive, but with a hidden aggressiveness beneath it. Her presence felt like a female equivalent of the man, some powerful presence. Full of confidence. "The Sons of Destiny have grown. Its time we took our place as the rightful heirs to this Galaxy. We are the only ones who can live up to the responsibility. That...is The Dream."

The man agreed with a slow nod. "That is what we fight for. It is our destiny."

They both gave him a look that sent shivers of pride through his body. Everything was planned to the smallest detail and the level of professionalism they portrayed made Jovis weak in the knees, and also made him wonder yet again why he was there. He only hoped he could live up to their standards. "Sounds impressive. Glad to be onboard."

The man rested his hand on the woman's shoulder, gave it a slight squeeze. "We both know what we're getting into. We've planned this for thirteen years. This is your last chance to pull out."

Jovis stayed his ground. "Give it to someone else."

The General nodded, a hint of a smile at his lips. Maybe he was impressed.

"Why don't you tell me more about this…army of yours?" Jovis asked, trying for a more direct approach in getting his answers.

The General opened his arms. "The Sons of Destiny are more than an army, we're a family. Each of the Sons of Destiny has been handpicked and trained by me personally. I know the names of each individual in my legions, I know their family, I've shook hands with their mothers or fathers, I've met their siblings. For the past thirteen years I've commanded and succeeded over a thousand combat missions in the Unknown Regions against races and species you wouldn't even have heard of."

Jovis was impressed, and had no doubts that the man was telling the truth. "A family?"

"There are no ranks in the Sons of Destiny," the General elaborated. "On the battlefield we are all the same, and we fight as a unit. I've carried wounded men across the battlefield, with explosions and fire raging all around me, as I brought them to medical attention. Never have I let a man die on the battlefield, and I've never sent anyone into a situation I wasn't absolutely sure they would come out of again," the man stated passionately. "I've never left anyone behind to die on hostile grounds, and I've never let anyone go into a battle that I wouldn't go into myself. I've fought alongside my men on every campaign - "

The woman stepped forth, calming the man by placing her hand on his. "Kayupa," she said affectionately.

At least now Jovis had a name. Kayupa. "Your name is Kayupa?"

The General, Kayupa as the woman had called him, turned his snake-like eyes to gaze upon Jovis and made a very sly smile. "I have so many names."

Akla stepped forth, and Jovis sensed trouble in the horizon. "You despise my race for what we did to the Yaka, yet here you are doing the same thing to the Republic?"

Both Kayupa and the woman laughed, shockingly loud to Jovis at first, at what was obviously a private joke. Akla never got his answer, but he did step back behind Jovis when he felt he'd endured enough of their taunting. Giving Kayupa one last look of satisfaction and amusement the woman slipped away from them and left the room, depriving it of its strongest beauty.

Kayupa noticed Jovis' hungry eye, but didn't seem to mind. "Don't offend me by trying to deny it."

Jovis felt his cheeks flush mildly. "Looking at something as beautiful as her is too good to pass up on."

Removing the smirk from Jovis' face, Kayupa looked at Jovis, sending a wave of chill through his body, making him wonder if the man was capable of freezing his enemies by hypnotism. It certainly felt that way. It occurred to Jovis that the man's look could only be that of a protective companion. The woman was spoken for already.

Usually death followed in situations like this.

But strangely enough Kayupa's hardened face loosened slightly, he looked more amused than angry, even releasing a low chuckle as he turned to pursue the woman.

"What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness."

* * *

_I must be getting old._

For the first time ever before a training simulation he doubted his own abilities. Skar admitted to himself that he was in his late thirties, though it was a fact he consciously overlooked, since he felt as young as ever. The vibrant power of the Force was keeping him in mint condition, despite his body's aging process. His long brown hair and his gritty beard had gray in some places, and the lines under his eyes had been the subject of countless scrutiny in front of a mirror lately. Skar had no explanation for it, but he had spent a lot of time as of lately inspecting his face. Odd. Age was slowly catching up to him and with it came curious quirks, he guessed.

His hands opened and his fingers spread like tiny satellites. Like a tidal wave emotions, feelings, thoughts, and desires washed over and through his body, telling him the life-stories and dark secrets of every single being nearby. He even saw forgotten memories, things in the past, childhood stuff that no grown person could remember anymore. Each memory came with its own distinct color, some of them hazy blue like clouds, those were the happy ones. Others were red and seemed to burn with fire, bad memories, memories tainted with hate or rage or sorrow.

Interestingly enough each memory came with a sense of temperature. Happy memories were warm and generally brought a smile to his face. Not all of the warm memories would make him cut a smile since alien memories were much more complex than human. He could understand them and certainly knew what they meant, but he didn't share the same joy as a Mon Calamarian did when they thought of the childhood games they played underwater. And some of the species' eating preferences didn't always strike a chord with him.

Given this unique gift of knowing what every being was thinking, had thought, or hid from itself, came to him mostly when he reached out to others . Sometimes the thoughts pushed themselves on him, if the emotion behind was very strong. Sometimes he felt like an emotional relay station, feelings passed through him with or without his desire, leaving him feeling used and powerless. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he couldn't mend all of the pains in the world, he couldn't save every being. He could only do the best where he was, with the people around him.

On a planet like Coruscant, it was easy finding people who wanted help. That wasn't a problem at all. The problem was that there were too many of them, and it was a thankless and very heartbreaking task of selecting those who needed it the most, since he couldn't help everyone at once, he had to select subjects out of the herd. He stuck to those who were in immediate dangers, those whose lives were at stake.

Ironically enough, that sort of thing also was frequent on a planet like Coruscant.

_Why did I come here?_

Like a distant memory his Master's words rang inside his mind. _There is significance in every life. Even those who are our enemies. Life is precious, it is a gift that should be treasured dearly. You must sanction every life as if it were your own. Therein lies the true path to compassion and peace. The opposite of war is not in peace, it is the fundamental ability to create. How else can we pretend to be the governors of justice if we don't ward every life as it was our own? Find compassion, my Padawan, and you'll find the true purpose of your being._

Feeling centered and ready for the challenge ahead, Skar reached up to his shoulder, unclipped his lightsaber from its shoulder-attachment, and brought it down and alive in a defense stance. He was dressed in his usual stealth suit, the gray uniform comfortable and warm, but worn in some places. Skywalker and even Rishi, his apprentice, had suggested he acquired a new one from time to time, but Skar had refused to. It had sentimental values. Besides, it still fit him perfectly, and he could always just patch up the worn areas.

The door in front of him opened and a small timer began counting up from zero above it. Skar leaped inside the door, unleashing a somersault in air before touching down with his lightsaber ready for action.

The first level was a spherical chamber with a blaster turret in the top and one in the bottom. To get a high score you'd have to destroy both turrets, and do that as fast as possible. A normal man, being without Force potential, would have considerably more trouble achieving such a goal since the feat of running along walls in a spherical chamber was impossible. It took a well trained individual, one carefully balanced in the Force, to succeed.

Skar set off, jumping off the platform onto the separate wall, using the Force as a lever to keep him pinned to the wall. Then he began crawling, like a rampant spider, lightsaber in one hand and using the rest of his body to spiral up around the walls of the chamber until he was at the turret. The turret had begun blasting away at anything that moved since he'd entered the chamber. Skar dodged the blasts by moving in a spiral pattern upwards. The turret couldn't maintain a decent lock on him long enough.

Skar reached the peak and injected his lightsaber into the turret, which exploded in a fury of sparks. Even before his lightsaber was out of the sparks, he was already jumping down in a straight line to the second turret, smashing the tip of his blade right down on top of it, and a second later he was on through the next door and heading into the next chamber.

This time he came in with a roll, allowed his anger to maintain his awareness slightly, just to give him enough edge for him to do what he had to do. The room lit up upon his entry, and Skar immediately sensed, as well as saw, the ten battle droids in the room. Four of them were at his own height, spread out over a broad walkway in front of him, while the other six droids were placed on high balconies shooting down at him. Skar hadn't even come up from his roll, before he had flung his lightsaber into the air, guiding it like a missile with the Force.

While his lightsaber flew in a circle around the room, shutting down the six high up droids, Skar brought his silenced blaster up, a small compact handgun, as he ran across the room, using the Force to guide his shots, blasting the four droids one by one with salvos of blaster fire. The droids shattered into pieces and flashes before tumbling to the floor in a clutter.

Skar was beginning to feel really revved up and very excited. Since his move to Coruscant, the toppling metropolis of the Galaxy, a place he'd once shied away from, Skar had seen days and weeks without any real combat. Unlike his arrogant apprentice Skar hadn't thrown himself into Skywalker's Jedi bunch. He preferred his independence. While Rishi had taken an official opinion to what he thought of the Jedi, Skar preferred his state of solitary partnership. Rishi spent many days and nights in the underground areas of Coruscant, the areas where most men dared not go because of the vile and low standard lifestyle that reigned there, as a renegade one-man watch patrol, with Skywalker's blessings.

Skar shot down the last droid and grabbed his lightsaber out of the air, not even having to check that his subtle use of the Force had been enough to take down the six droids on the balconies. His confidence in the Force as his ally made him powerful.

Moving along to the third chamber, Skar thumbed the lightsaber off as the animated world came to life around him. The scenario was a typical abandoned warehouse, with an upper floor. The lower floor was packed with crates and the floor was stained with puddles of rain, which seeped through a large crack in the ceiling. Through the gap he could see dark clouds and thunder. The windows on the upper floor lit up with bright light as lightning struck outside.

Rain washed onto the floor and looked like a waterfall. The crates were soaked, the wood giving off a very clear scent of trees. The warehouse was some hundred meters long and twenty meters wide. Plenty of room to play in.

Skar caressed his hilt as he stepped slowly across the floor, using the Force to dampen the sound to nothing. His eyes wide open and checking every corner and inch of the room. The Force lightning up every movement of rain and every dust particle that moved gently across the floor.

Skar looked down at his lightsaber, the new model he'd designed shortly after coming to Coruscant the first time, a symbol of him turning a new leaf. This one had no symbols attached to the hilt, just the crude smooth handle. The lightsaber was the signature mark of a Jedi. Skar had chosen green gems for his blade, in honor of his late Master Bo-Hi Dzog. And he'd even thrown in a little special feature to the lightsaber.

The room lit up in emotion, color, sight and sound to him. He could see everything. He could feel everything. Except for the little of his physical form, he was one with the room. Using this innate knowledge to his advantage he frowned when he realized that he couldn't spot his foe.

As he walked by a crate he began to feel the floor vibrate beneath the soles of his boots. Jumping onto a second crate he turned and faced the source of the vibration. A powerful metallic limb struck through the crate below, sending splinters and wood-shrapnel in every direction. Skar spotted seven fingers all of them tipped with razor-sharp blades. Another arm came through a meter to the left, this one armed with a heavy blaster cannon. Then the entire crate toppled together as the X-7SV killer-droid came out roaring in rage.

In all its splendor, Skar watched the creature come alive, its red beady eyes scanning the premises for targets. It straightened its back and stood a massive three meters tall. The powerful legs moved forward, creating cavities in the floor as the feet crushed through the floor. The head reared and looked directly at Skar.

Shifting his lightsaber hilt to his other hand, igniting the green blade again, Skar cracked his neck.

_Let's do it._

Skar leapt to the upper floor and was running down the length of it as the rapid-fire blaster cannon started blasting away at his shadow. Skar jumped over the railing back down to the first floor as a small concussion grenade devastated the upper floor. Skar rose amidst the flames and readied his weapon for defense.

Lowering his cannon, the droid roared and came running on all fours at him, ready to pounce on him. Skar left the blade in a vertical line over his head. As the beast came closer, Skar tilted the blade downwards and began running straight at it. The droid wasn't deterred at all, it seemed delighted that the target was coming right into its grasp. Skar held out his lightsaber like a spear ready to ram the tip right into its cold metal heart.

But at the last minute he jumped, leaping a good ten feet over the droid. The lightsaber however stayed below, as it shot through the chest of the droid and came out through its back where it flew right into Skar's hand as he touched down. The droid stopped and gazed down at its wound, sparks flying from its chest. Then it turned, eyes glaring red at Skar.

_Damn, one inch short!_

The droid lifted its blaster-arm and fired deadly red bursts at Skar. Skar lifted his blade in a guard, deflected the deadliest of the shots and then back-flipped to a safer location. The droid came at him, crushing through a pillar that kept the upper floor aloof. Skar kept retracting, until he found that tactic fruitless. Skar leaped forward out of the droid's path and settled onto a crate.

When he turned to face the droid it was gone.

Skar listened to the Force but it allowed no assistance. He lifted his blade and kept it vertical in front of him, assuming that was where the danger would come from. Two seconds later the droid came into shape again behind him. Skar lined his blade up with his back to deflect a heavy punch from the droid. The punch was warded but the force threw him off the crate and onto the floor.

He splashed down in a rain puddle, the droid looming over him on the crate. Eager to trap its prey, it bounced off the crate and came down fast, ready to crush him. The legs spread at just the right time and the droid touched down with its legs on either side of him. The droid lifted up its huge arm to punch down on him, but Skar's blade came up and he sliced midway through the arm, cleaving the metallic limb at the joint, before it could ram into his skull.

Snarling in robotic anger, the droid knocked the lightsaber from his hand before he could pull it away. He did manage to back-roll out from beneath it and get back on his feet, while the massive droid lifted up its blaster cannon to end the battle once and for all.

Stretching out his hand Skar got hold of his lightsaber. As it slammed into his fist, Skar touched a certain hidden panel. The lightsaber had been equipped with two crystals sitting parallel to each other, when attached the lightsaberhilt was the size of any hilt, but when dislodged the handle transformed into two smooth hilts each of them with a green blade the size of a normal saber.

The lightsaber broke off down the middle of the hilt, and Skar pulled them apart, just in time to parry the incoming wave of blaster streaks. He had to use both blades to block the dozens of shots fired each second. Luckily for him the blaster cannon mounted on the droid shook tremendously as it fired, which made half of the shots useless, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to deflect them all.

The droid roared at its own lack of success, then attacked. Taking a step back Skar launched the first saber into its face like a boomerang, where it cracked sparks and the entire head sizzled oddly. Skar then threw his second weapon across the floor, swirling right into the droid's legs, cutting them both off at the knee joints, dropping it to the floor.

Both blades came flying back into his hands as he walked over to the roaring, thrashing metal frame on the ground. Skar reassembled the blades into one, watching as the droid quivered in its death cramps, sparks fizzling past him, but the light vanished from its eyes eventually and the hulk of the droid stopped moving, entire body gone lax.

Skar jumped down through the fourth portal, which opened up in the floor by his feet. The doors shut above his head in the new room and Skar powered down his lightsaber and sheathed it by his shoulder. A young girl, she couldn't have been more than sixteen, was assessing his results behind a desk and she looked up at him with a pleased expression.

"1.54 minutes. An excellent score, Master Jedi."

Skar nodded sourly, he heard what she said and also what she didn't say. "But ten seconds off my record, right?"

She acknowledged his disapproval. "But still in the highest rankings we have. Skywalker's highest ranking is half a minute behind yours."

Skar wiped sweat from his brows. "Skywalker hasn't taken this test in more than five years. I take them every day."

"Then, lets look at Corran Horn's. He's forty seconds behind you."

Skar still wasn't happy. "He only takes these tests when he isn't too busy at the Academy."

The girl looked back down at her screen. "You still have the highest ranking in my records." The girl shrugged. "Come on, ten seconds isn't that much."

Skar felt he was back twenty years ago when Shinran had taken his results after a training exercise on the _Koniduz_. He'd disapproved back then too, he'd always wanted to be better than himself, which he knew was impossible. Maybe 1.54 really was the best he could do.

The girl's remark was wrong though.

"In combat ten seconds is a lifetime. There is a gap between life and death - " He caught himself lecturing to someone who really didn't care. "Forget it. Schedule another session for me tomorrow. Same time."

The young girl shook her head in subtle confusion. "As you wish, sir." She then read off another screen. "Luke Skywalker is waiting for you outside."

Skar wasn't expecting that. "Where?"

The young girl pointed at the doors. "Outside on the balcony."

The balcony was empty, but Skar stepped onto it nonetheless, a smile growing on his face with each step he took. It was hard not to, in the presence of such beauty. This was his favorite time, just on the opposite side of nightfall. Hundreds of spaceships loomed over his head, looking like giant planets shifting through space, and below a maze of twinkling lights looked like shiny diamonds, spread across a vast field.

Skar rested himself against the railing, with eyes shut and sniffing in the air. This high up the air still had some cleanness to it, despite the heavy trafficking of ship routes and airspeeders.

He would always forget why he'd ever come to Coruscant until he saw her by night. And he was glad to know that whenever doubt was close, reassurance was always only hours away. Millions of lights in the distance, thousands of levels to them, and expanding without end into the horizon. It was inspiring, gutwrenchingly magnificent.

If Rishi didn't spend so much time in the underground, crawling like a snake in the belly and sewers of this world, he would see what the work was all about. Skar felt guilty for thinking that a second later, truth be told Rishi had done more to better life for people in the Republic than he'd done. Skar suppressed a sigh. He didn't even know what he was doing here. The things he'd done to help the New Republic since he'd joined could be counted on one hand.

_So what am I even doing here? _

His Master's advice on protecting the innocent had good merits but it just wasn't enough for him. He felt like time was running out and he had yet to do anything to truly be remembered for. Somewhere he knew he hadn't reached an age in life where these matters should concern him, but he couldn't help it. He was looking to feel pride again, to know he'd acheived something valuable. Defeating the Jentarana had been a victory, but with the powers inside of him he knew his legend would demand more.

He couldn't blame Rishi for leaving him after their fight, the truth was that Skar had nothing more to teach the student, a thought that weighed Skar's emotions down terribly. What good was he to anyone if he didn't have anything to give? What was his legacy, the meaning of his life, if he had nothing to pass on? And no one to teach?

_What's the point of anything?_

"Kept you waiting, huh?"

Normally Skar would have jumped when someone approached him without him knowing, but the sound and feeling Rishi's words brought to him was like cool water on a hot day. Skar turned to see Rishi standing in the doorway of the brightly lit corridor. He was wearing a white sleeve-less shirt, the red Kjoil tattoos on his muscular arms in plain sight, a pair of brown workpants and a hood over his neatly cropped hair, small trails of blond hair sticking out beneath the hood. The clothes and especially the hood made him look very casual enough to blend in naturally on any city street, which Skar suspected was the intention in the first place.

He looked nothing like a Jedi, or even a Kjoil, and it melted Skar's heart to admit it. But Skar guessed even he didn't look like a Jedi or a Kjoil in his stealth suit, more like a spy or an assassin.

Rishi hadn't looked so clean since…since Skar had last seen him, two years ago. His youth was still fresh, if not from his physique, then from the look in his blue eyes, that sense of cool pride and ability. In many ways he looked like a younger version of Skar.

Skar found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to say something but was afraid it would come out as a stutter. "I, ah - "

Rishi hid his smile. "Yeah, I know."

"Its been awhile."

Rishi sent him a sympathetic look. "Too long."

"I was told Luke was waiting for me."

Rishi looked over his shoulder. "Master Skywalker will be here shortly, he had to find a datapad to read the information I found."

"You two came together?"

Rishi nodded carefully. "He picked me up. He figured you'd still be here."

Skar made no more of it, and allowed himself to search Rishi's mind. He didn't know what he was looking for, maybe just some sense of where the boy was mentally. Was he masking an anger or was he really as nervous as he seemed? As nervous as Skar felt himself to be.

"Did you read the card?"

Rishi stepped out onto the balcony, each step forward he took made Skar feel more nervous inside. He thought of himself as a strong-willed and resourceful person but Rishi's presence, after so much time apart, threw him off his guard.

Rishi leaned against the railing, his eyes searching the night-sky. Skar figured it to be a ploy to avoid looking Skar in the eyes, but didn't hold it against him. Skar remained with his back turned to the city, neither of them having to look at each other. Somehow it made it all easier. It was easier to say things of importance if you didn't have to look the person in the eyes. Some would call it cowardice, but sometimes it was the only way to really say what was kept inside.

"I didn't have time. I managed to remove the encryption and the next thing I did was call Master Skywalker. Figured it would be best to save time." Rishi looked down into the city below. "If its about the bombing, he's the one who can do most good with it."

Skar felt grim inside. "Did he tell you about the other incident?"

Rishi's eyes flew wide open. "What other incident?"

Skar's voice was his usual gruff and gritty, his tone matter-of-factly. "There was a great surge of darkness in the Force not too long ago. Luke suspects that millions have died. He thinks its related to the bombing. It happened at the same time. Too close to be a coincidence."

Rishi's face tightened with suspense. "The Jedi will surface and destroy this threat." Rishi said the words with cool determination, but there was something else behind those words.

Skar suspected Rishi hadn't really understood what he'd just said about the bombing and as Skar reached out to the boy he no longer felt the giddy nervousness inside the boy. He felt something so hot with anger that he drew his touch back, almost afraid to burn himself.

And Rishi knew it.

"Do you remember why we broke contact?"

"Sometimes," Skar said sadly, "other times I try to forget - "

"You ridiculed me for doing my duty in the underground," Rishi said firmly, his voice full of scorned pride. "You said it was pointless. Trust me, you may have forgotten but I haven't. I tried though..."

Skar knew the boy was angry but that didn't mean he was going to just let the matter pass. Skar did think Rishi's underground activities were pointless because the boy had much more potential than that. He could've used his resources more wisely, where they'd do better good. Skar was conscious of this because he'd spent his whole life trying to use his talents where they made the biggest difference, which was why he spent so much time contemplating his own assets, pondering if the place he was, was the best place to be. Where his strengths would be best utilized.

Skar made his voice hard. "I _do _think you could do more someplace else. The strength inside you…your gifts are being wasted - "

Rishi turned and pointed a finger at Skar's face. "But you, you are the only one who thinks that. I've come to live with it, because I can't relate to anything else than what I feel is right. Staying in the present is the only way I can - "

"There is more than just the present, Rishi," Skar said.

Rishi knew what that meant. "You mean the future. I don't believe this! You taught me to listen to my heart and do the things I feel to be right, but when I do, you complain. What am I supposed to do?"

"You should listen to your heart, but I think you're misreading it. You could die tomorrow or the next day and all people will remember is someone who threw himself at a situation he couldn't win, trying to do something everyone frowned upon. You might save some people, but you're creating an army of enemies. The Senate does not - "

Rishi shrugged. "Who cares about the Senate? Who cares what anyone else thinks? It doesn't matter what other people thinks. The Senate is of no importance to me, neither is the Republic. They don't control how I live my life. What do they know? I mean, I understand what they're trying to achieve but all I see is them fighting each other while innocent people get squashed by their ignorance. I'm setting an example."

"An example of defiance, Rishi."

Rishi's head turned halfway to look at him, but quickly looked back at the nightsky. "Its only defiance until it becomes a revolution."

Skar nodded, finding no error in his apprentice's words. "Fine."

Rishi banged his fist against his heart. "My job is to save lives." Rishi waved a hand at the Coruscant skyline. "This place…may be beyond saving but at least I'm giving it a shot." Rishi's eyes filled. "Maybe its so hard for you to accept…because you're ashamed of me - "

"No."

Rishi held out his palm, but didn't turn to look at his former Master. "Let me finish." Rishi's lower lip trembled. "All I have to give to the world are the things you taught me; killing so that others might live."

"What?"

"You said survival came on the other side of someone else's death."

Skar's eyes rolled. "That's not what I was trying to tell you. Survival and duty are not the same thing. I was trying to teach you that sometimes the only way you could win a fight would be to take a life, don't misread that into something else. There are ways that don't facilitate killing. I never trained you to be a killer, I trained you to be a protector."

"And I am."

Skar sighed. He only taught him what he felt to be right, but there was no way to break through Rishi's barrier. He'd created a wall around his ideals and not even a turbolaser could pierce through that. It would take something else to make Rishi realize he was wasting his powers. The boy had faked reality around him and created a place where he didn't have to think about anything other than doing what he felt to be right.

But like Skar had learned the hard way, sometimes what felt right, didn't mean there wasn't some other place more right. Sometimes what felt right, was infact wrong. _Listening to the heart is a good thing, as long as you remember that there is more than one heart in the Galaxy._

The boy had a very distorted way of seeing things and Skar grudgingly admitted to himself that it was too late for him to influence Rishi anymore. Rishi was too old and too proud of himself to think anyone else could find a better way for him to see things. Reality sometimes had a strange way of revealing its true face, and Skar hoped once Rishi had a better grasp on what requirements the Force had of him, he would know.

Skar sighed loudly and turned away from the boy. "Maybe time will teach you what I can't. Hopefully reality will some day creep its way through the holes in your mind."

Rishi clenched a fist in anger. "To hell with you, and to hell with the Republic. There are people who need me, its obvious that up here I'm nothing more than a joke!"

Skar didn't turn to look at him. "You are what you make yourself to be." Skar shook his head slowly. "You should fight for the things you believe in, there's no shame in fighting that way...or dying."

"I believe in protecting the innocent, just like any other Jedi. Are they stupid too?"

Skar sighed. "This isn't the path I would have chosen for you. A part of me...wouldn't wish the kind of lives we live on anyone."

"But its _my _path, and its _my _choice." Rishi's voice broke. "I don't…have to listen to anyone but myself, least of all you anymore. I came here thinking we could patch things up again, but you're still caught up in your ideals of how I should be. And as long as you keep this up, you can forget about our friendship. As far as I'm concerned, we're through!"

Rishi was about to storm away, but he stopped before he even started.

"Silence gets us nowhere. Silence does not make the pain any less," said a third voice from the archway onto the balcony, "and with defiance, you ruin the chance for future alliance."

Skar turned too, to see Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, his cloak enshrouding him and that boyish smile on his face.

Abandoning the feud for the moment, Skar and Rishi bowed in sync to the Jedi Master.

"No bows between allies," he said calmly as he stepped out onto the balcony to join them in the beautiful night, "no bows between friends. I heard what you said about the Republic, Rishi, and I agree with you. The New Republic has had its bumps but we're coming along the path that will lead us to a true, and brighter, government. One day, you will see that our common dream will be realized."

Rishi laughed. "Our dream? I don't think you know my dreams. These talks about government, they're a waste of time. The very lives we're trying to protect are dying beneath us and there's no one there to fight for them. No one but me." Rishi wasn't afraid to speak his mind, even to someone as powerful as Luke. "I don't know where we are, but we've drifted far from what I had hoped."

Skar didn't like the tone. "Rishi - "

Luke didn't seem to mind. "Skar. Its fine. I share his worries. I know that there are many unfortunate people living under the surface, and I'm doing all I can to make the Senate take kinder to what you're doing to help them. Don't think I don't appreciate it, you know I do. And as soon as I can legitimize your actions, I can direct more help to you."

Rishi looked at Luke like he suspected a lie. "I believe that fate created Coruscant as a test. To train those worthy of its beauty. If you're gonna be guarding the Galaxy, you should be doing it one planet at a time."

Luke looked at Skar, a small smile on his lips. Maybe Luke had recognized something in Rishi, something reminding him of someone else. Skar never found out what it was before Skywalker looked back at Rishi. "This is not the time for this."

Skar felt the seriousness in those words. "The bad news?"

Luke took out a small datapad with a datacard inside it and handed it to Skar. Skar did notice the crude drawing on its surface after a few seconds of tilting it upside down. It was not a very accurate drawing but he still felt it served its point. "This datacard has Kjoil lettering painted over it. Its a message," Skar moved his gaze over to Rishi, "to us."

Rishi nodded.

Skar activated the datapad and began reading the data stored in the card. He summarized it aloud for Rishi. "A repair yard was taken over by terrorist a week ago out in the Outer Rim Territories. They say that they have a hundred hostages, all of them citizens of the Republic. The repair yard, Hope's Haven, is supposedly one of the best we have."

Luke cleared his throat. "It is. Some of our frigates and cruisers in that sector regularly get their repairs done there."

Rishi looked up into Luke's eyes. "This is a direct assault on the New Republic."

Skywalker swallowed. "That's not all."

Skar looked down into the pad again, and read the final lines aloud. "The terrorists call themselves the Sons of," Skar stopped reading, hesitating, "…Destiny," Skar felt his heart tighten, like in a noose. The words, the name of the group, felt like an echo from the past, reminding him of a time he'd much sooner forget. He heard Kayupa's voice from the past, shouting in anger, filled with infuriated anger.

_Damn you, Skar! _

_Don't hide from me! You and me, we're better than that. We share the same blood, the same ancestors! We are both sons of destiny! _

_Don't you do this to me!_

It could have been a coincidence, the world was full of terrorists and rebel groups with flamboyant names, but there was something...a new feeling inside him. Like someone had just picked at a thread inside of him and many old sensations were flooding forth. It couldn't be Kayupa. Impossible. Kayupa was dead, buried, burned to a crisp.

Skar shook his head in confusion. It didn't make sense. And most of all it didn't make sense because he didn't want it to make sense. Skar felt bile coming up the back of his throat. Tasting it. And however much he wanted to deny it, he could still feel it. That presence of his old friend in the Force, hidden from him until now, when he reached out for it. Reached out for that place in the Force where he'd once found his best friend.

Kayupa was alive.

Skar somehow found the courage to read on, though his eyes had turned foggy and he felt like the world was deteriorating beneath his boats. "And the name of their leader is Kayu - " He never finished it, instead he just held out the datapad to the others, wanting them to take it away from him. He didn't want to read anymore, he couldn't read anymore. He was afraid that if he read the name aloud it would jinx what he already knew to be true, but didn't want to be true. Skywalker accepted the datapad.

Rishi himself was stunned, but he managed to remember another element of the matter. "The guy who gave me this said that in a month there'll be no Republic left. He mentioned the Sons Of Destiny too. And something called The Dream." Rishi looked to his Master. "Its a trap."

"And they've made no demands," Luke added.

Leaning against the railing for strength, Skar sighed. Skar bit his teeth together, feeling the Force drawing on him, reminding him of his duties and promises. "The hostages are just bait. Its a message, but not to us, Rishi." Skar turned around and faced his apprentice. "Its for me."

Rishi nodded. "A trap."

"Even if this is a trap, there are still people in danger. And someone wants me to come for the hostages. Nobody knew…him except me. Someone is waiting for me."

Skywalker looked over at Skar, his face uncommonly confused. "You know this Kayupa person?"

Skar remembered the fact that he had never put a name to the clone of Skind Kjoil to Luke. He wished he had. Even now, feeling he would have to say the words, he felt he couldn't. His throat clogged up. "Its…a long story."

Rishi answered for him. "He's the one. Its him. The clone of Skind Kjoil."

Skywalker closed his eyes, drew in a silent breath, obviously as shocked to put the pieces of the puzzle together as Skar was. "If you want I could come with you - "

"No, Luke," Skar objected. "This isn't about you. This is personal. You got your own things to deal with, we've had this talk before. I don't want you to stick your neck out for me. You are too important. I don't want anyone to get killed over me."

Skywalker shook his head. "You are making it personal."

Skar shook his head. "Luke…I'm sorry but this isn't your fight. Its between me…and him."

Skar hadn't noticed Rishi had moved away from them, he stood with his back to them both, looking out at the stars above. "So you do think he's alive?"

Skar sharpened his gaze on Rishi, though the apprentice didn't look at him. "I set fire, personally, to whatever remains there were of his body. I watched it all blow away with the wind. He's gone." Skar wanted more than anything to believe his own words.

Skywalker didn't understand. "Then why is someone commanding a terrorist action on a repair yard under his name?"

Skar sighed. "I don't know. But even the name of the group, Sons of Destiny, I heard him say that once. If its not Kayupa, its someone deep in the mix who knows all that's been going on in my life the last two decades."

Rishi suspected a connection, but he wasn't ready to face the others yet. "Could this be related to the bombing?" His voice was low, almost too careful. "What the guy told me sounds like what happened yesterday. Someone is trying to break the Republic up."

Nobody said anything. Skar's head was swamped with too many thoughts and contradictions, yet he knew what he had to do. He would check out the repair yard. Skar felt brave and motivated enough to look over at Rishi, who looked back at his Master this time with a worried look on his face.

"Master, you shouldn't."

Skar wasn't sure why Rishi wouldn't want him to go. This was a clear signal to him, someone wanted him to come to the repair yard. Whoever it was, if it was not Kayupa, had primed plenty of bait. Skar thought there was too much bait for it to be true, Kayupa would never have been so obivious. He had no idea who was behind this, but he was gonna find out. "I have to go. People are in danger. The Republic is in danger." Skar looked at Luke. "We are all in danger."

"After we came back," Luke elaborated, "I found out that the Sons of Destiny had already sent that same message you hold in your hands across the Holonet, again with no demands, just a declaration of occupancy." Luke frowned. "In any case the New Republic has begun orchestrating a mission to the world about a few hours ago. They're planning to send a reconnaissance team to the repair yard from a nearby station. They'll monitor and obtain any data they can about the place. The Republic is in a delicate state right now, everything must be handled correctly if we are to maintain the public's trust. Once the reconnaissance team finds out if an insertion is possible, a detachment of highly trained commandos will be inserted and they will do their best." Luke looked at Skar. "Since this is related to you, I think you should team up with the insertion team and act as their team leader. No Jedi will be sent because of our critical state, but Skar, you could work, since you have no direct connections to the Republic. I could get you onboard the team."

Skar shook his head. "I'm not a soldier. I wouldn't know how to command such a group."

Luke smiled. "But you have abilities they don't. The Force is your ally. You don't have to be their leader. You can act as their special aid."

"Wouldn't my presence be known to the Republic? I doubt High Command would approve."

"No," Luke said. "I'll make sure of it. You'll just be another unit on the team. The reconnaissance team is scheduled to arrive on Regana later today. Then we'll know more. I'll talk to High Command and we'll know firsthand how bad the situation is."

Rishi leaned against the railing. "What makes you so sure you can insert a group of commandos without being noticed?"

"The Republic has recently designed a special ship, its fitted with the best stealth drive there is. As long as the stealth drive is engaged, they won't be detected. The man who designed the drive will personally be flying the ship, he's the best man for the job."

Rishi frowned. "You talk of peace, but you're building warships right under the people's noses."

Luke gave Rishi a cold look. "Wars are an inevitable fabric of peace."

Skar shuddered hearing those words. He'd heard them so many times but he still wasn't sure they were right. "Where will I be able to read the data from the reconnaissance team?"

"The team should send back intel later today to High Command, you and I will be there to see it personally. But whatever the reconnaissance team discovers, the stealth ship launches tonight, with a team of commandos onboard. It'll be your only chance if you're still interested in going. With this going on I doubt they'll allow your personal ship into the system, and even if you wanted to, you'd have a better chance of slipping in unnoticed on the stealth ship with the soldiers."

Rishi frowned. "The datacard was a message to Skar. Whoever sent it is expecting him."

Skar turned to Rishi, his face determined. "Then I shouldn't keep them waiting. I have to go."

Luke nodded to them both. "Skar, stay close by. I'll contact you once I know more about the meeting in High Command."

Skar nodded. "Fine."

Luke turned on his heel and left the two alone on the balcony. Skar didn't know if it was a good choice to make in Luke's situation, but as he turned to Rishi, he saw the boy was no longer as infuriated as he'd been minutes before. He looked more concerned now.

The look on his face reminded Skar of that time when he'd first approached the boy to ask him to be his apprentice nine years ago on Draori. Draori had been the site of a lost ship filled with refugees from Ka'ckak, home of the Kjoil. It was there that Skar had rescued the last survivors from the Five Epigones, the only Kjoil in the Old Republic turned to the ways of the Sith. Rishi had been only ten back then, and he looked like that young boy now, very concerned and removed from anything else.

On Draori, another Jedi Master named Latarlas had been rallying the Kjoil against the Five Epigones, but the Kjoil had no fighting experience. Latarlas had managed to train a few but he was getting older and time was slipping for him. Skar remembered how Rishi had looked up to Latarlas, almost as a second father, hoping one day the man would train him.

Skar remembered the evening by a campfire when Skar had talked to Rishi, just a young boy then, about his future. Skar had sat down by the fire, watched the smoke rise like a snake to the cloudy night sky above, eclipsed only by the moon. Next to him Rishi was playing with a stick in the fire, immaturely playing with the flames running dangerously near his hand. Skar was about to react on the danger, but the boy threw the stick into the fire, just as the flames were about to burn him. Skar had settled back down, grateful that the boy had some notion of the danger he could have inflicted upon himself.

Then Rishi had looked at Skar, a sense of childlike nature in those eyes tainted only by a shred of fear. It was a look he'd seen in the eyes of all the Kjoil in the village. That look of lacking the understanding to break the curse of the evils all around them. It was sadness but there was still hope, glistening deep within each of them. It was this hope he was gonna look for in the boy.

"I have to talk to you about something."

Rishi had sighed and placed his head between his knee caps. "Does it have to do with my training?"

"It does."

"Then I already know that Master Latarlas won't be teaching me. Cartra told me. Master Latarlas is a great teacher. Is it something I've done wrong? I am strong."

Skar couldn't help but smile back then, he'd found the shred of hope he was looking for. That willpower to move on through obstacles. "I know. So does Latarlas. And you are to be trained. But, Master Latarlas proposed an alternative possibility."

The boy looked up from his kneecaps, the hope very evident in those blue eyes now. "What?"

Skar folded his cloak around him, the night's chill was getting to him, and the fire did nothing to warm him. Maybe it hadn't been the cold night air after all, but more knowing he was about to embark on a task he didn't feel ready for. A task he knew he would have to achieve at some point in his life. He'd only hoped then that it would come later. But the boy was gifted, and it would have been wrong to walk away from this opportunity.

"He wants you to become my Padawan."

The boy had jumped to his feet, and the disappointment masked his otherwise young face. The insulted curl of his lips made Skar feel very bad inside. "I am not some...charity! I'm not something you pass along."

Skar appreciated that and knew it was not the case. "I am doing this for you."

"Why can't Master Latarlas train me?"

Skar had let his eyes dive inside the fire, feeling awkward explaining such a delicate and serious matter to a ten year old boy. He was grown for his age, but the youth had far from passed away in his emotions. He reacted swiftly and emotionally. He took it as an insult and maybe it was to him, but the condition of Master Latarlas's disease was far more important than a young boy's racing emotions. "Master Latarlas is sick. Terminally." Skar looked over at Rishi. "Do you understand what that means?"

The scared look on Rishi's face was testament that he understood. The young boy sat down next to Skar, close enough for their shoulders to brush. "He's…dying."

Skar made a slow nod. "That's right."

"How?"

"I don't know. And neither does he. But he can feel it. And its taking a lot of his strength to keep himself healthy. But sooner or later his strength will fade and the disease will kill him. He can't divert attention to anything else at this point or it will weaken him. He may hold out until the battle against the Epigones, but I fear the battle itself will be his end. Fighting takes a lot of the soul and Master Latarlas doesn't have much left to give. He can't take an apprentice now. He wants to save his last power for the fight to ensure victory," Skar had looked into the boy's eyes and saw the same terror in the young boy, "with his dying breath."

The boy's sad eyes looked away then, glancing back at the huts before the boy nodded solemnly. "I knew it."

Skar's eyes darted. "What?"

"Master Latarlas's illness. I've felt it…sometimes. I hear a lot of stuff in my mind and sometimes I think its other people's thoughts, I've heard Master Latarlas's thoughts. He thinks a lot about now instead of the future, and every time he thinks of the future, it hurts him." The boy found a nearby stick and placed it in the fire, leaving it to burn. "Maybe its because he knows he has no future, because he knows he's gonna die soon."

Skar felt like a heathen for smiling in such a serious conversation. "You're a wise little boy, Rishi."

"My father is great man. He is very concentrated on keeping the people together. My mother is dead, long time ago, now. The gods took my mother. Master Latarlas told me that hating them would not help her and that it would hurt her to know. Master Latarlas would strike me if he knew I felt this way and my father would allow him. But since neither Master Latarlas or my father have given me any reason not to hate the gods, I'll let you try." The boy had looked over at Skar, immaturity fully evaporated from his face and Skar saw intelligence in the blue ovals, now shedding tears. "Teach me how, Master Skar, and I'll be your apprentice."

Skar had allowed his arm to fall around the young man's shoulders as they tossed another stick into the fire together, adding smoke to the clouded sky and fading out the warm silver circle of the moon. It had been a moment Skar could never forget, the turning point of his role from Knight to Master.

And even now he felt another turning point was up ahead, but like then he had to move forward. Rishi didn't seem older at all to him now, and Skar saw the young boy again that he'd saved once, and had probably saved many times then vicariously through his training, but knowing that came nowhere near as feeling as good to know he'd taken the boy as his apprentice. Skar was proud of the young man Rishi had become, he might make some bad decisions along the way, but he'd have to learn those on his own.

Rishi walked up beside him. "Why am I not going?"

Skar hadn't said anything about Rishi staying behind, but he had thought it. "Because you are too important. If Kayupa is behind this, things will be rough. I survived an encounter with him before, barely."

"You don't think I have the skills, do you?"

"Aside from your underground excursions you haven't been training. I doubt you would last very long in a simulator."

Rishi felt hurt. "No need to sugarcoat it, Master."

"I'm being honest because we're talking about your life. I can sense you and I wish you had been ready for this, because I don't want to go alone. But my wish for companionship will not convince me to jeopardize your life."

Rishi's look was sour. "Kayupa was not a real Kjoil," Rishi commented roughly, "he wasn't even a real man, he was a perversion."

The change of thought hit Skar like a pod racer. "That's my friend you're talking about."

"Its how I feel. To duplicate a man, to mirror his soul, its a disgrace to the man as well as nature, our provider of life."

"Maybe." Skar guessed he was right. "But...sometimes life and nature needs a helping hand, if the forces of fate are put out of control."

Rishi laughed. "Fate can't be put out of control, we are right here right now. You can't change destiny."

"But we can choose destiny, Rishi. Our lives are not set in stone, our free will determines our choices and our future is influenced by the choices we make."

"If fate is in our control and we can choose our own destiny, then why are you going to the repair yard?"

Skar searched his feelings once more and the confirmation still lingered there, waiting to be addressed. "Because the Force tells me its the right thing to do."

Rishi looked quizzical. "How's that different from what I'm doing in the underground?"

"The Force tells you that that's the path your life lies down. But as long as you obey the Force whenever it tells you to, you're losing your individuality." Skar felt like a Master again. "You have to make choices for yourself, believe in something for yourself, not just because someone or something says its the right things. There are many things in life others would consider the right thing, but that doesn't make it the right thing for you. That's all I want you to learn. That's what drove us apart."

"But the Force - "

"This," Skar held up a finger, "has nothing to do with the Force."

Rishi looked more confused than ever. "How is it not related?"

"You're too absorbed with what the Force wants you to do, that you never stop to think about what you want."

Rishi pointed out the obvious. "How's this thing with you different?"

"Because in this moment what the Force tells me, is what I want as well."

Rishi knew what he was saying, and a darkness crept over his face. "Kayupa, right?"

Skar sighed. "He was my friend, and if he has resurfaced somehow…"

Rishi hugged himself, and Skar had a feeling it was not just to ward off the cold night air. Rishi's look was very hurt. "I guess that means you approve of cloning, then?"

"No, I find it a disgrace just like you," Skar stopped talking for a second, remembering how lonely he'd been at the time Kayupa had stepped into his life, "but it gave me a friend."

For a moment Rishi looked betrayed. Skar didn't want Rishi to feel like he was competing against Kayupa, he wasn't, but given the situation they were in, and the past they'd endured, it seemed only likely that Rishi would feel that way.

The apprentice turned away. "Well, I guess I've played my part," he said.

"Where will you go?" Skar asked.

Rishi steadied himself against the railing. "Where else, Master?" the word master sounded like traitor, "I'll disappear into the underground again." Rishi calmed himself and bowed to Skar before walking towards the exit. "You know where I'll be."

"Rishi!"

The boy kept walking.

Skar shouted at him. "When I come back...somehow...I want to settle this!"

Rishi's stride never changed.

Skar's lips moved without sound; _Don't leave._

But Rishi was gone.

When did things turn into this? He could still remember all the adventures he and Rishi had gone through together, so many memories that suddenly felt so fake. Skar turned back to the night-sky, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his lips a hateful frown, wondering if he would ever see the boy again. Thinking it made him cringe inside. There were so many unsettled things between them, so many things Skar wanted to set right. Most of all he wanted his friend back. Secondly he wanted his apprentice back. Skar felt the datapad in his thigh pocket, weighing more in his mind than it did in his pocket.

Kayupa.

_Spent so much time trying to shed the past...only to have it come looking for me._


	2. In The Belly Of The Beast

Skar entered the chamber with a slight taste of bile in his mouth, which instantly turned to outright repulsion when he heard the doors seal behind him. There were suddenly a million slightly justifiable reasons to turn on his heels and walk right back out. But only one reason to follow through and take a seating; finding out how Kayupa was still alive and what he wanted. Though Skywalker had assured him that his identity would not be revealed to any of the high officials, and that his anonymity would stay intact, he still didn't like being so close to the fire. These men were the high commanders of the New Republic military and they would be in complete control of the mission that Skar was about to embark on.

Luke had no military authority, so he'd called upon a favor from one of his high ranking, and most trusted, friends in the Defense Force to secure Skar's inclusion. But officially Skar was not Jedi, he was not Kjoil, and he was not the only member of the team whom Luke in secret suspected would make it out alive.

Though Luke knew almost everyone in the Defense Force's elite, he had kept Skar's insertion to a minimum, hiding it from those he trusted and thought of as friends. Skar admired Luke's resourcefulness, knowing he would find it hard to lie to a friend like that. But it strengthened Skar's belief that his was possibly a more volatile situation than it seemed at first glance; if Kayupa was involved, and in possession of the kind of army the intel boasted, they were heading for a darkness unequaled.

There was no doubt, if not Kayupa, that Jedi were involved in this terrorist action, which meant other Jedi would stand a better chance of making a difference there. So far there had been no clues as to how the Sons of Destiny planned to achieve their goals of destruction or even the exact number of hostages they had in their possession. It all reeked of misinformation and deceit. It was so obvious a trap that Skar felt like he'd been called out specifically by the terrorists. By the man who claimed to be Kayupa, by the man who _felt _like Kayupa.

Luke had supplied Skar with a formal green uniform that would not make him stand out like a Jedi cloak would have. Five Admirals of the Republic Fleet sat around the silver oval table in the center of the room with a holographic projector in its core. Skar took a seat at the end of the table, with Luke on his left. The eyes of all the commanders looked at Skar once, then they checked their screens in front of them, reassured when they learned he was listed to participate as an assistant to Luke.

Admiral Ackbar, the Supreme Commander of the New Republic forces, was a Mon Calamarian, an amphibious species with orange-colored skin, webbed hands and a high domed head with huge fishlike eyes. A native of Mon Calamari, Ackbar was essential at the Battle of Endor where he maintained the supervision of the Alliance fleet. Following the formation of the New Republic, Ackbar became one of the Republic's ruling members and was now in charge of the military.

The alien leaned forward over the table and cleared his throat. "As you are all aware, ten hours ago we received a declaration of occupancy by a terrorist group, a group so far unheard of before. A week ago they seized complete control of one of our repair yards, on Regana in the Outer Rim. In their declaration they also stated to have over a hundred hostages, all of them citizens of the Republic" The commander looked around at all his piers, a grave look in his bulging eyes. "The Chief of State has asked us to do whatever we can to resolve this threat. It is Princess Leia's belief that these terrorists may also be behind the bombing of the Senate not too long ago."

Skar felt a fleeting emotion coming from Luke at the sound of his sister's name. Leia had been injured during the attack at the Senate, and was still not back to her old condition. And it seemed a more endangering threat already loomed besides the terrorists. The Senate had recently discussed the possibility of adding former Imperial officers to the Senate. Leia was against this, worrying that the addition of former Imperial cells would start the same kind of corruption, and ultimately destruction, that had unraveled the Old Republic.

The judgement was still not decided. Perhaps this terrorist group was also part of that, a ruse by the Imperials to get the attention of the Republic forces while they manipulated the Senate into letting them join. But if that was the ploy, it didn't sound like Kayupa. Skar couldn't imagine Kayupa joining up with Imperial forces, the man had despised the Empire even more than Leia did.

A representative of the repair yard, and Regana, was also present at the meeting to provide intelligence about the station itself. The man was humanoid as far as Skar could tell, but the man exuded a calmness which Skar felt someone in his position should not be feeling at a time like this. When he spoke, his voice sounded unaffected, even slightly bored.

"This repair yard was operated mainly by Derrick Melar before the attack and his signature was on the declaration, which to me confirms that it is no hoax or ploy. Derrick is one of our finest officers, an honorable man with a wife and son living here on Coruscant. The repair yard, dubbed Hope's Haven, is where a large portion of capital ships patrolling the Outer Rim are upgraded and refitted. Its not just a repair yard, it's also a storage facility for all of the weaponry that are used on the capital ships." The man lifted his eyebrows and smiled vaguely. "Fortunately none of our capital ships were receiving supplies at the time of the attack."

Admiral Ackbar didn't seem consoled by this news. "But, however fortunate that is, we must still regard this siege with some skepticism." The alien's face grew dark and his face closed up. "This…is an attempt on the lives of the people who count on us for protection. An attack on the very integrity of the Republic, and it could not have come at a worse time."

Across from Ackbar sat Admiral Hiram Drayson, the man who had been in charge of the Republic's mission to find the once lost Katana fleet. Drayson was one of the New Republic's highest-ranking military officials during the Great Purge. He was known in military circles as the Old Ghost of Coruscant. At the moment Drayson looked just as thrown by this news as Ackbar did, only he was easier to read because he was human. "Do we have an ID?"

Skywalker nodded. "The terrorists call themselves the Sons Of Destiny."

Ackbar continued. "Some starfighters called in from Usapa were being repaired on Hope's Haven shortly before the attack. They were reported to have undergone full repairs and were ready for pickup. We must take that into account too."

"What kind of starfighters?" Skywalker asked.

The representative sighed, but it was more tedium than concern. "B-wing class, frigate-killers. Hope's Haven itself is a ground facility. Capital repairs are undertaken in space with repair ships from orbital stations, while smaller ships are docked on the ground."

The Mon Calamarian looked at the representative, but slowly let his fishlike eyes fall on every single person in the room. "We've already recalled the ships that were headed for Hope's Haven for repairs and redirected them to another repair yard. From now on all of our ships are told to stay clear of Hope's Haven. We can't allow anyone to provoke the terrorists into thinking we're attacking. They will certainly be expecting that."

General Wedge Antilles, head of the Republic's special forces, sat on the other side of Luke. Wedge was one of the best starfighter pilots in the Galaxy and had fought at the Battle of Yavin, been instrumental in the destruction of the second Death Star, as well as fighting in many other battles. He had once been the squadron leader of the infamous Rogue Squadron, but Wedge had been promoted to the rank of General about a year before the defeat of Thrawn.

"A group of B-wings doesn't sound too heavy. A couple of capital ships and a detachment of starfighters sounds enough to me to handle this situation."

Luke cleared his throat. "We don't know if the B-wings are the only type of defense they have. I highly doubt it. One of my students recently found information that indicated the Sons of Destiny are planning something bigger than just the assault on Hope's Haven. The information indicated that the Sons of Destiny have their eyes set on Coruscant." Skywalker's face turned very grim. "It suggested that in a month there would be no Republic left."

Wedge looked around at all the commanders with a surprised look on his face. "But the Sons of Destiny themselves made no such declaration, right? I didn't see it in anything we've received from Regana."

"The information came from a Wedder Dhohji, a very well known information broker. He makes money selling information, not by lying," Luke said, "we would be unwise to not regard this information in the light it deserves."

The representative of the repair yard cut straight to the point, still that calm look on his face. "But all we know for sure right now is that they've taken Regana hostage," the representative stated, "declaring it under their control. They've made no threats, no demands, and no deadline. It doesn't sound like a terrorist act but we're left to assume it is, nonetheless. We have to find out how they intend to hurt us."

Drayson agreed with a nod. "If building a new kind of government on Regana is their intention, hostages won't help them. It rules out sympathy."

General Antilles gave Luke a concerned look and then he looked back at the representative. "Is Regana harboring any…classified weapons?"

"Such as?" the representative murmured.

Wedge held out his hands. "Like a new Death Star, or a Suncrusher, or any of the kind of doomsday weapons we've had to face in the past."

The man gave Wedge his best if-looks-could-kill-face. "No, it is not."

"Are you sure?" Drayson asked.

The representative dismissed the two men and pressed a switch on the table before him. Soon a hologram of the Galaxy appeared above the table in miniature scale. "Regana is far inside the Outer Rim inside the Sumitra Sector. During the Rebellion thirteen years ago we had a base on the planet Tierfon. The Empire gave up finding the base, because there are some 12,000 planets and moons in the Sumitra Sector."

"So these Sons of Destiny could have come from anywhere inside that sector," Luke said, it was more a statement than a question.

"Literally yes," Ackbar answered for the representative, drawing on his own knowledge of the sector. "The Outer Rim is last stop before Wild Space and the Unknown Regions. It's an incredibly vast region of space, strewn with obscure home-worlds and primitive frontier planets. I remember the Alliance gained support from these outside worlds during the war. And we still maintain a significant presence, mostly thanks to stations like Hope's Haven." Ackbar's face lightened a tad, and Skar was surprised to recognize it as a smile. "But even Grand Moff Tarkin couldn't find his way around in there!" Ackbar would have known, having once been a slave to that very man.

Wedge smiled at the Mon Calamarian's own wisecrack but gathered his attention around the problem again. "So we have no idea of who we're dealing with. They could be anyone."

Another Admiral, which Skar didn't recognize, elaborated on Wedge's point. "They could have come from Wild Space, the Outer Rim, or they could be a completely new species from the Unknown Regions that we've never seen before."

Luke leaned forward. "And they've made no demands, which suggests that they're not doing this for money or something else. They're just waiting."

"Waiting to strike, you mean," Drayson said and again it was hardly a question.

Luke nodded.

The representative snorted in disbelief. "With a handful of B-wings?"

"You discounted the possibility of a superweapon," Luke told the man coldly, "Hope's Haven might not have one, but maybe the terrorists brought something from the outside. Something we've never seen before."

Ackbar ended that conversation quickly. "Let's focus on the facts."

Luke agreed, somewhat, his eyes showing some tension. "The facts; a group has taken over the repair yard on Regana, they have over a hundred hostages, and they've declared Regana for their own."

"Which in itself is an act of war," the unknown commander added, "their conquest is a hostile act."

"No arguments there," the representative said.

"But what do they want? What do they need the hostages for if they're not going to demand anything from us. And why Regana?" Wedge asked everyone at the table, clearly not knowing what to think of the whole situation. "Its a planet in the middle of nowhere!"

"Perhaps that's just it," Admiral Drayson ventured. "The distance to that planet allows them a great advantage. If we should decide to attack they would have amble time to prepare. To my understanding it takes a week to travel to the Sumitra sector." The Admiral leaned forward and searched through the files on his screen. "Wasn't there a name somewhere in the declaration they sent?" He found the file. "Kayupa, that was the name of the one who sent this declaration. Has anyone bothered to research this man?"

"I believe to know who it is," Luke said.

Skar felt cold inside, and it wasn't just the mentioning of the name but also the way Luke had employed the Force at that moment, using it to slightly coax the minds of the people at the meeting. Skar would have told him not to do it, if he'd known Luke would do it. These people were trusted allies of the Republic. It wasn't justified to lie to them. Skar guessed Luke had to do it to maintain the privacy and anonymity that Skar wanted in the Republic. But it was still very uncharacteristic of Luke to do so. Such a thing was close to walking on the line that separated a Jedi from the Dark Side.

"Kayupa Koan was a General from the Outer Rim during the Rebellion. He was once in command of a large army that offered its allegiance to the Empire. The Empire turned them down. General Koan's pride led him astray and Koan became infuriated. His armies started to hunt down and destroy Imperial forces. I heard about him the first time when I was a young pilot with the Rebels. His army was eventually evaporated and he disappeared inside the Unknown Regions."

Wedge held out his hands. "Why is he targeting Coruscant and the New Republic? We have no hassles with this guy."

"Hate can be a powerful thing, Wedge. General Koan had thousands of men under his command during the Rebellion." Luke swallowed, convincingly. "He could have millions now."

Wedge sighed. "This sort of thing is the last we need after the bombing of the Senate. I'd hate to think these things aren't related. Wouldn't want to know that we have two groups out for our necks at the same time."

Skar found himself for the first wondering if the bombing of the Senate and the Sons of Destiny takeover were, in fact, two different moves by two different groups.

Skywalker nodded. "I think I may have a lead on at least someone who was involved with the bombing of the Senate. I don't think its the direct assailant but he is involved. I'll be leaving for Msst soon to investigate that matter."

"Meanwhile we figure out what to with these Sons," Ackbar said.

Skywalker leaned back. "Whatever you do, I'll appeal to you to let my liaison go along. He knows as much as I do, and I would like to stay in communication with him, in case he finds clues that might benefit my investigation."

Ackbar looked at Skar with some skepticism in those big glassy eyes.

But it was Wedge who talked first. "You understand that this isn't going to be easy? We've got a team of commandos, experts in stealth and infiltration, the sort of thing we need on this mission. They'll be our first shot at this, and hopefully only shot. They'll team up with the reconnaisance team, calculate their options, and cripple the terrorists enough to stage a ground assault." Wedge looked over at Luke. "Luke, these men require the most absolute expertise. These men rely on each other, they can't be babysitting someone who'll slow them down."

Skar wanted to defend himself, but Luke spoke for him. "Skar won't be in the way."

The Admiral that Skar still didn't have a name for leaned forward. "Another thing," the Admiral said, his tone hard and to the point "Master Skywalker. Should the insertion team fail to find out anything substantial, or fail to be able to stop them, we have no choice but to send in the fleet."

Luke nodded, several seconds later. "And the hostages?"

The Admiral interlocked his fingers. "Should the strike-team fail, or be killed, that would be a sign of hostility towards the Republic. Should they choose to attack our team, surely that is proof enough that they have aggressive intentions."

"You didn't answer my question, Admiral Saul," Luke said in that firm voice that betrayed his always gentle nature.

Skar noted the name; Saul.

Admiral Saul looked like he'd swallowed something bitter. "Everything that can be done to minimize the loss of civilians will be done, but if the Sons of Destiny are harboring a threat it is our duty as protectors to save the larger majority, mainly the Republic and Coruscant."

Ackbar concurred. "If it comes to that, Admiral Gout Saul will be assigned the task of dealing with the threat. With all the incursions we're facing from the Imperial Remnant, I cannot spare any other ships at this time. Your sister, the Chief of State herself, has commissioned Admiral Saul with this task."

Skar couldn't help wonder why Leia had specifically chosen this man.

Admiral Saul chuckled inapropriately. "Master Skywalker, you of all people should know the responsibility of a protector. Isn't that what being a Jedi is all about?"

Luke allowed his out-of-character grim stare fall on the man. "Jedi are peacemakers, negotiators, protectors. They're not soldiers."

Drayson cleared his throat, thus ending the argument. "Am I correct in assuming that no Jedi are involved in this mission?"

Skar felt the hairs on his arms stand up.

"That's right," Luke said.

"Then why are you here, Master Skywalker?" This from Admiral Saul. It sounded harsh, and the commander immediately pulled back and raised his hands to appear non-threatening, but it seemed more like a ploy to Skar than an actual apology. "I mean, since your brave Knights aren't involved why did you choose to join this meeting?"

Luke again allowed his eyes to fall on the man. "I came here to offer my help and to find out whether or not the terrorists incident and the bombing were related."

"And your counsel is most appreciated," Admiral Ackbar said, thus ending the debate. "In the light of the recent bombing I'm sure the Jedi Order has more important things to attend to. This is a time of crisis. We can't afford to lose our vigilance."

"Agreed," Luke said.

And the agreement was finalized and Skar was booked a ticket for Regana. While the Admirals continued to discuss the situation, Skar leaned back in his seat and sought out Luke's thoughts.

_I didn't thank you_, Skar said without words.

_Friends bring out the best in me_, Luke replied, _I'm only hoping we're doing the right thing._

Skar hoped so too. _I've never heard of any Kayupa Koan. Did you dig up this information on your own?_

_No, _Luke said, _I fabricated it._

_Its a lie?_

_No, its a means to an end. Sometimes lying is done with good intentions. And it makes all the difference._

Skar frowned. _Some of the worst things imaginable came out of good intentions._

_By the way, you might consider a shave._

Skar rubbed his beard. _Why?_

_You don't look geekish enough to pass for a liaison._

Skar almost laughed aloud, but thought better of it. _Beards are cool, and you know it._

That time it was Luke who almost laughed out loud.

Studying the proceedings that followed Skar allowed his eyes to fall on a certain Admiral, Admiral Gout Saul. Skar had sensed it before when Luke had bantered with him, and Skar began to feel the same kind of disturbance in the Force around the man. From the files on his display it showed that he was promoted to Admiral no more than a few weeks ago. It didn't make sense that Leia would have chosen this man to command a fleet operation into the Sumitra Sector.

_What do you make of him?_

Luke knew instantly what he was referring to. _Nothing I can use. I'll check with Leia. Find out if she knows anything about him._

_There's something not right about him_, Skar said.

_I'll make sure to add him to the list_, Luke followed.

After a while the intel from the reconnaissance team came through and the lights dimmed in the room as the holo-projector in the center of the table came to life, expanding beyond the room and giving them a 360 degrees view of the repair yard. The repair yard laid before them, partly hidden under clouds of snow, while behind them, projected over the door and walls, they could see the reconnaissance team huddled up behind a slope. The man operating the camera filming the view was projected on the wall to their left, the side of his head filling most of their left view. Data began typing itself on the screen before him.

"Since they arrived they've seen no hostages on the outside," Ackbar read aloud," no ships leaving the planet and very little outside activity. The B-wings have been deployed in an orbital patrol and all the space stations have been emptied and powered down."

The camera zoomed in on the yard. Hope's Haven stood magnificently deep in mountainous territory, small and medium-sized mountains all around the station, the facility itself large enough to support the population of a small city. How the station had managed to operate on a crew of only a hundred was puzzling to him. Hope's Haven, albeit a small repair yard, had once been an Imperial installation, and as such it matched their designs, cold black metal buildings shaped like pyramids, cut through vertically just below the peak, some of the structures even reaching below the surface into sub-levels and basements.

The structures of the old fortress were linked by passageways in intersecting patterns, allowing easy access from one end of the station to the other. and Skar saw tiny men busy packing away crates and setting up guards along the yard. There was also a great deal of ship parts, hull and alike, scattered around the perimeter of the repair yard. Some kind of dismantling of what looked like several large ships.

_What do you make of it?_ Luke asked

Skar had no idea. _Maybe to reinforce the structure against an assault, maybe they're building something, but there's no way to be sure._

The men moved very professionally, there was no sloppiness or signs of fatigue in the way they moved. But there were exceptions.

"Some of them don't look like soldiers, judging by their clothes. More like mercenaries," Wedge noticed.

Luke found that to be of slight relief. "Its the amateurs who are dangerous. Not the pros. Amateurs are unpredictable."

A gentle laughter sounded around the table and one of the Admirals said something about Luke's Jedi students, questioning which of the two categories they fell under. Skar didn't think it was funny, and taking a look at Luke, he guessed Luke didn't either. Skar opened his mind to Luke, and Luke did likewise. As one they both saw the same thing and would be able to hear what the other was thinking. If Luke felt reminded of something by seeing the transmission, Skar wanted to know about it, and vice versa.

It was a good teamwork and along the next hour as the gathering watched the live feed, Skar and Luke were able to draw some reasonable conclusions and Skar had a better image of who and what he would be going up against. More importantly he studied the layout of the Hope's Haven repair yard, eyeing opportunities for an insertion or sneak points.

After an hour had passed, Admiral Gout Saul suddenly pointed at a part of the screen projected over the ceiling. "Can we get an ID on that solo man?"

Skar looked closer as the camera panned to give them a better look. A figure was standing in one of the yard's watchtowers, looking down on the men working below. Typing on a keyboard in front of him, Admiral Drayson increased the zoom. Then decreased the range of image into a square, like a computer screen. The face portrayed before them became gigantic. The man had silver hair, cropped military style, and a gray beard. The man's eyes stared coldly down at the men below, Skar thought he spotted pride in those eyes. The man was wearing a thick coat which fluttered in the wind, his hood laid on his shoulders and then he smiled.

Smugly.

And Skar's heart ached.

_Let me guess_, Luke said.

Skar did his best not to let his anxiety show. _That's him…Kayupa._

There was not a doubt about it. The man was older but he was the spitting image of what Kayupa would look like if he'd still been alive - Skar caught himself thinking it, there was no going back now, Kayupa _was _alive. Skar noted the same old weariness in Kayupa's eyes that he sometimes saw in his own when he looked in the mirror, that look of age having taken its toll.

_But you said he was dead?_ Luke stated the obvious.

Skar had thought so too, but it seemed his old friend had more than one trick left to pull. Skar felt very cold inside, the darkness inside him numbing him, leaving a veil of clouds over his heart. _Either he survived or there are two of him. _Skar gave himself credit that he had been wise enough to pack so early.

* * *

"You boys think you're the aces of the Republic! But to me you're nothing!"

Solid as rock, seven men stood lined up against the wall as their drill sergeant, a loud and hardened man with a short temper, the basic military hothead, shouted instructions at them. The seven men were all of the equal height, age and appearances. Donned in dark-blue military armor and fatigues, packed to the brim with equipment, everything from helmets to grenades to smaller weapons, the men stared straight ahead as their commander spat orders at them.

They were the Dragon's Tooth, a military wet-works unit, covert infiltration specialists. Trained since the day they joined the military in combat, war, and stealth, carefully selected because of their unique abilities.

"You're less than nothing! You're so insignificant even talking about you useless toads is beyond comprehending!"

The commander's words were high strung and overly exaggerated. His shouting was merely to excite them, to get them on their toes, to wake them from any daydreaming they might have and focus on the job. They needed to know that this was it, soon their lives would be on the line and any lack of concentration would mean their guts on the floor.

"Keep your egos to yourself! There's only one person in the world who thinks you're hot stuff and that's yourself!" The commander halted in his stride. "The question is; can you convince me!"

He held out a remote and typed in a command. Behind him a circular-shaped saucer lifted up from the floor and hovered above him, small lights blinking, and sensors taking in its environment. It was about two feet in a diameter and no taller than a human head. It was a RATM, remote assistance tracking module, a somewhat new invention. An unmanned aerial vehicle used for surveillance, and it assisted in communication. The RATM transmitted its status and mission data to its controller via data-link. It enabled the group to see the terrain for miles away, even further than the scopes in their helmets could. Through the HUD in the their helmets, they could see everything the RATM could see, its feedback illustrated on a small screen in the left side of their visor.

The RATM was also armed with some defensive measures; shock grenades, poisoned darts, small motorized blaster turret, and a stun baton. Not unlike a droid, the RATM also had its own artificial intelligence, able to think on its own to prevent it from flying into a hostile area, thus giving away the unit's presence. It would stay secure and not enter any areas that it considered endangered discovery. The group had been working with these types of vehicles for two years now and were so attuned and used to the RATM being their eight member that they'd dubbed it Tracker.

The commander nodded to Tracker and then turned his gaze back to the soldiers. "Today, you will be running the Gauntlet!"

Thought they didn't express their worries out loud, each soldier felt a chill pass over his heart. The Gauntlet was famous among ground soldiers for its ruthless difficulty. It was a training arena, consisting of hundreds of panels, almost like a maze, that would open and close at a random interval. The design was meant to alert soldiers to the danger of a threat coming from a place they didn't expect it, that danger could come from any place.

Once walking down the halls of the Gauntlet, a door could suddenly open to your left, revealing a threat. A wall could close down in front of them, forcing them to choose another path. It motivated the soldiers to be on their highest concentration, since every wall could suddenly present a danger behind it. The Gauntlet was feared among rookies, it separated the boys from the men.

Standing amongst the soldiers was Kast, the group's scout. As their scout he would always be ahead of the others, securing areas before advancing the group. He'd been through the Gauntlet only once before, and had come out with Tracker as the only other survivor.

But what worried him even more than the Gauntlet was the speed in which their group had been scrambled. They'd heard the reports and news bulletins about the terrorist takeover, and Kast was worried about the fact that what he'd heard on the news had been repeated in their briefing. All in all, they didn't know squat about the mission site or what kind of opposition they would be up against. Usually there were tons of reports and files to read through; this time there was nothing.

The commander looked over each soldier with scrutiny. "I expect the best from you! Our intel tells us that the terrorist group you _will _encounter are in possession of hostages! Which means you will be running the hostage scenario! To prepare you _maggots _for what's to come! Four protocol droids are somewhere inside the Gauntlet, its your job to rescue them and get them out. We've chosen protocol droids, because they are slow. Once you set down on your real mission, you don't know what to expect of the conditions of the hostages. They might be wounded, tortured, they may not be able to walk very fast."

Kast cringed. Getting through the Gauntlet was one thing, but having to rescue hostages and get out of there was another thing. That old demon inside his head that always made him think about if he'd chosen the right career, chuckled at the top of it's lungs.

The commander looked over his datapad and then looked up at each soldier, looking for someone. His eyes stopped at Kast. "You are the controller of the RATM, right?"

Kast saluted him. "Yes, sir."

The commander snickered. "This time, try to get some of your comrades out too. The RATM is very expensive, but your comrades are worth more. Got it?"

Tracker blurted out an insult with a series of electronic beeps. No one caught the full insult but it did involve something about the drill sergeant's mother having a romantic involvement with a ronto.

Kast allowed himself a small smile beneath his helmet. "Affirmative, sir." Kast clicked on his helmet and his visor lit up with sensor readings from Tracker's eyes. He could see himself staring back at him. And the looks on the faces of each of his comrades, all of them had the same shared concern on their faces, but the eyes behind the visors indicated a level of strength and courage that superceded any worry of failure. After this training mission they would set out on their real mission. They would succeed or they would die. Failure did not mean you got to start over in their line of business.

The commander flicked a button on his datapad and a door slid open on the wall behind them. All of the soldiers jumped back and prepared their blasters, high-powered rapid succession rifles, with all kinds of scopes and attachments. The door opening behind them revealed a long dark corridor that was the entrance to the Gauntlet.

"Go! Go! Go!" the commander shouted.

Tracker was the first to enter the corridor, followed up by Kast. Once he was through the others followed, following his lead and cautious of every corner, wall or ceiling panel in the hall. Tracker hovered effortlessly down the passage, its sensors checking everything, showing the readings on Kast's internal visor screen.

Kast walked slowly in its wake, checking its readings with one eye while his other eye scouted the area for threats Tracker might not have seen, cautious of a sudden attack from behind a wall, or a door suddenly slamming down between him and the Tracker.

The group moved as one, staying close together, but not so close that they didn't have the freedom of movement. If a wall would suddenly crash down, it was best to stay close, as to not get separated.

Kast heard the entrance close behind them, he was expecting the loud slam of the door pounding down from the first time he'd been through. Back then he'd jumped at the sound, but this time he was expecting it. None of the others in his group jumped either. The veterans always said that once you'd been through the Gauntlet you didn't forget anything about it. You remembered the panic every time, you relived it. And your senses felt more awakened than ever. You were cautious of every little sound, walking in a sneaking pattern to minimize the sound of your footsteps.

The weapon he was carrying was a new generation of BlasTech blaster carbines, designed to replace the very outdated rifle made so famous during the Empire. As a secondary fire there was a concussion grenade launcher mounted below the barrel. The weapon itself had many multiple accessory rails, for both tactical purposes as well as having the ability to custom the weapon to your preference. This new line of rifles was intended to replace the old Imperial stormtrooper rifle and make its way into the scene, as the new close quarters weapon.

Kast found it better than some of the other carbines he'd been armed with in the past. It was lighter, more compact and easier to reload. He felt more at home with it than he'd done in the past with the weapon's predecessors. For his personal design he'd chosen the grenade launcher mounted below the barrel, a flashlight on the left side of the barrel, and finished it off with a sniper scope on the top with a miniature laser designator right below it.

Each accessory could be easily refitted with the removal of a few screws, adding to his liking to the weapon; it was easy to handle and it fitted into his hands as if it had been the thing missing in his life all this time. He could feel his hand subconsciously holding onto the grip as if letting go would kill him. Aside from his primary firearm, he carried a single handgun, also fitted with a laser designator and a silencer for more stealthy intrusions. He also carried six handheld grenades, two sonic grenades that emitted a very loud noise to stun the enemy, flash grenades that blinded the enemy. Laser trip mines, and a pair of proximity mines that exploded when the enemy got too close; especially helpful for securing the perimeter or placing on the back of a door the enemy had to breach. For those extra dangerous and close range situations he had a vibroblade in a sheath on his hip.

_Anomaly ahead._

Kast stopped the instant the words flickered across his screen, and held up his hand to inform the others to hold their position while he investigated the discovery. Tracker had found something. An anomaly meant that Tracker had found something inconsistent with the rest of the area. The Gauntlet was shaped and built so that the RATM could only spot the things that the human eye would see. It couldn't look through the walls to spot which walls could spring open and it couldn't make out the tiny crevasses in the ceiling or floor that marked where a thick metal slide-panel could appear from.

In the field the RATM could look through walls with its heat sensors and movement detectors. But in here it was as blind as the soldiers. It wasn't necessarily realistic, but neither was the Gauntlet. It just trained you to use your senses to their full potential, to listen, and to see. In the end it was human reflexes that won the battle, not technology.

Kast looked at the tiny screen that showed him what Tracker was seeing. The image changed resolution to its finest and magnified the image.

_Living entity, moving_

Kast's grip on the blaster rifle tightened with suspense.

_Distance closing_

It was getting closer. Kast still couldn't see what it was, but the sweat starting to form on his forehead felt cold and foreign. It was no surprise that the Gauntlet scared him straight. Everything about this place made him nervous, made him almost wet his pants with fear. He knew the Gauntlet was designed to prepare him for actual combat, but to him it just motivated more than actual combat to quit the military, he'd rather be doing a real field mission than this. At least then he would have the element of surprise. In here someone was watching him through invisible eyes, just waiting to spring a trap on him. The not knowing part really got to him. Anything could happen.

_Entity identified._

Kast pulled up his mouth shield, it locked off his voice from the outside world, and enabled only Tracker to hear what he was saying. It wasn't to shut out his comrades, but rather the prying ears of the imaginary enemy. "Identify."

_Rodent_

Kast cursed and pulled the mouth shield back down. "Just a rat," he said over his shoulder with a light grin. "Remind me to inform our commander that these halls aren't completely sanitary."

He heard the following nervous laughter coming from his team mates.

And completely missed the panel closing right in front of him. Soon after another one closed down behind the team, locking them inside a cramped box. Two seconds later all four walls rose up into the ceiling, revealing battle droids on every side of them. The distraction had worked.

Kast was the first to cast blame. And he had a pretty good feeling where the others would, too.

* * *

"Nice teamwork, pal!"

Kast tried not to hear it. Tried to take it with a smile, the only way he knew how. Tried not to think that things were as bad as they felt. Tried everything he could to just block it out, and act as if he wasn't too worried.

He was _petrified_.

The team was gathered back outside the entrance to the Gauntlet, most of them cursing and swearing, while Kast made his way to a fresher station to splash water on his face. The others talked amongst themselves, and Kast heard his name being mentioned a couple of time. He couldn't deny the fact that his carelessness had gotten the team killed in the exercise, he hadn't been careful enough, too quick to make jokes even in what he knew was a hostile area.

It was a rookie's mistake, and he hated himself for it. The last thing he wanted was to let down his team. Unlike conventional groups, the Dragon's Tooth was his family. His real family was long gone, nothing more than distant memories that he tried not to remember. The men in his team were like brothers to him, and he'd gotten them killed.

Kast swore internally as the drill sergeant came back into the briefing room. The man walked straight past the other men and came up behind Kast. Kast tried not to see the man's reflection in the mirror over his head, he didn't want to see the disappointment there.

"Forty seconds. That was how long you lasted," the sergeant muttered quietly enough for only Kast to hear, "how long you and your team lasted."

Kast washed his hands. "Am I out?" he said carefully.

The drill sergeant shook his head. "Sadly…no. High Command still wants your team on the mission. Even you. You're lucky your involvement didn't depend on the success of your simulation in the Gauntlet. If it had, you would have been shipped to the nearest mess-hall for kitchen duty as we speak."

Kast didn't think of himself as lucky. "I let the team down."

"I've seen worse scores in the Gauntlet. I just wasn't expecting it from you. You've been through before. You knew what to expect."

Kast nodded to his own reflection. "I got careless."

"And it got you and your team killed. This sort of thing can't happen once you leave for Regana."

"It won't," Kast said, hoping he could live up to those words.

"Let today be a reminder to you. A reminder you obviously needed before setting out. Who knows? Failing this simulation may just give you the wakeup call you needed, to save your life on this mission."

Kast turned around, saw the faces on each of his brothers. Their frustrated and angry faces, their own disappointment almost as big as the drill sergeant's.

The sergeant cleared his throat. "You'll have to earn their trust again, soldier. In the field you have to be able to rely on your comrades. There can't be any mistrust. However, its your call. You can choose not to go on the mission. Based on what I've seen I wouldn't blame you."

Kast nodded slowly, wishing he could erase today. "If I leave now…they'll never trust me again."

The sergeant agreed. "I think you are right."

Kast swallowed. "I'm not staying home."

"Good," the sergeant turned around to face the others. "Listen up! What happened today was a test. Your mission is still a go! There are a lot of people counting on you! This is no time to concentrate on anything but your mission. Make me proud!" The sergeant smiled viciously. "Come back so I can see your ugly faces in the mud again!"

Though a few of them remained quiet, most of the Dragon's Tooth cheered enthusiastically. Kast felt slightly happy again, hearing his comrades cheer. But a part of him wondered if they still wanted him with them. He wondered if he still belonged with them.

The sergeant turned to Kast again. "Make us all proud, soldier."

"I will," Kast said firmly, "I will."

* * *

Hours later, the wind tugged at Skar's hair and Luke's cloak as they stepped out onto the platform. Coruscant was still dark in it's almost convincing night, yet the millions of distracting lights almost made it seem like the city could never fall into true darkness. Skar's satchel weighed heavily on his back, filled with the same standard equipment as the other soldiers he'd be venturing with, along which Skar had packed his own blaster and the lightsaber. He had dressed in a standard uniform and had considered trimming his hair and shaving to add to the performance, like Luke had suggested, but in the end he'd neglected the option simply because of lacking time.

He trudged across the platform, feeling uneasy knowing he was going off into battle. Luke followed behind him, the two both sensing the disturbance in the Force that had come to life ever since the bombing of the Senate and even stronger since the terrorists had revealed themselves.

The platform was vaguely illuminated by projectors that all fell on the shining black hull of the personnel carrier. The ship, aptly named the _Passive_, was smoothly designed, and Skar understood this was crucial for its stealth capability. The hull was painted pitch black, an effect he was sure would make it undetectable among the stars. He wasn't quite sure about how it worked, but also preferred to leave it to Luke's judgement. Since this was the only ride into Regana he didn't feel like complaining.

Luke had given him instructions that he would have to present to the single guard standing by the ship, the guard was one of Luke's allies as well. And if Luke trusted him, then Skar would too.

Skar turned around to face Luke, trying to hide the gravity he knew had to be on his face. Many things didn't seem right, and even more seemed impossible. He only knew one thing for sure. He might not see Luke again.

"Luke, I - "

"I know, Skar. But let's not tempt fate by saying it out loud. We both have duties to carry out. You have yours and I have mine." Though Luke's words were assuring, they didn't match the look of worry on his face. "Find out what you can."

Skar nodded, another worry brewing beneath his shell. "Luke, if anything should happen to me, I want you to take care of Rishi. I'm sorry to leave you with another hothead," Skar queasily joked, and then turned serious again, "but his arrogance was something I could never - "

Luke laid his hand on Skar's shoulder. "Just like us, Skar. He's just at that age. When you come back, we'll both see what we can do to help him. Until then I'll look out for him as best as I can," Luke laughed slightly but warmly, "you Kjoil are becoming a precious commodity," Luke tilted his head, "becoming more precious with each second, it seems."

"Luke - "

"Did you go see a med-droid like I asked you to, about those pains you've been having?"

Skar had wanted to, but there hadn't been time. "No."

Luke looked even more worried.

"But I'll be fine. When I come back, I'll have it checked out."

Luke didn't look any better. "I wish you had seen one before all this."

"So do I," Skar said.

"Skar…what about the refugees? In case you don't come back."

Skar had thought of that, and had acted towards insuring their protection. "Its taken care of."

"How - "

"That's all you need to know, sorry," Skar said adamantly, "trust me, I would never have gone on a mission like this without making sure that their safety was taken care of."

Luke seemed to trust him on that. "Alright, then." Luke's eyes wandered towards the ship awaiting Skar, his face a maze of worry.

And although Skar didn't blame him, he felt it was more than the tension already between them. "What's wrong, Luke?"

Luke's eyes stayed solid on the horizon. "There's a warning in my heart. I wonder what your real motivations for going to Regana are."

Skar smirked. "I thought it was obvious."

Luke's eyes found his and the gaze he shot Skar lacked that innocent farmboy look. Luke was beyond secrets now. "Do you realize the danger, Skar? The seriousness of it all? You're not going to stop him - "

"Luke - "

"No, Skar," Luke said firmly, "you're not leaving so you can stop him at all. And you know it. You're going because you miss him."

Skar felt attacked, but didn't know how to counter. Luke was right. "I just want answers. It doesn't make sense. It feels like a bad dream."

Luke hugged himself. "Why was he so important to you?"

Skar's head turned down, and he caught himself fixating on the platform's surface by his boots. "He was...my friend, but more than a friend. He taught me all I know today. He inspired me. I am somehow blind to the hate I should feel towards him for all the wrongs he did. Because I know in the end he was redeemed," Skar's jaw tightened, "he was cursed, Luke. He could have been so much, but fate stole it from him. All he wanted from me was death," Skar looked away, fighting against the tears he could feel creeping up behind his eyes, "he just wanted to die, Luke. But I couldn't give it to him."

He could feel Luke's eyes glaring through him. "Because you loved him."

"As much as I've tried to fight it, every day since then his memory clings to me. Half of me belongs to him. But I have no illusions that the man I'm off to face is the same Kayupa. I hope he isn't."

Luke looked doubtful. "You sure?"

Skar nodded, mostly to himself. "I couldn't go through that again. I need my answers, and maybe once and for all rid myself of his ghost."

Luke looked like he wanted to ask more, but the ship on the platform behind them started to come alive, preparing for take off. "I guess there's no delaying this anymore. I hope you find your answers, Skar, you deserve them. For too long I've seen you wither away in the shadows. The New Jedi Order is about to bloom and I need you there beside me."

Skar smiled wryly. "I was never that big on gardening, Luke."

Luke laughed warmly and patted Skar on the shoulder. "May the Force be with you, as strongly as your dry wit, Skar Kjoil."

Skar shot Luke his most cocky smile, knowing there wasn't much real confidence behind it. "You too, farmboy."

With that Skar turned away from Luke and walked across the landing platform. As he walked under the wing of the massive ship, he came up to the ramp, seeing the soldiers rummaging inside the ship, stowing away gear and weapons.

The guard standing by the ramp, his face stern and orthodox, held up his palm to stop Skar and asked for his identification papers. Skar held out the sheet of flimsiplast Luke had given him. The man read it, his eyes noticing something on the flimsiplast and his lips twitched. "Jarod Marhar, special assistant."

Skar nodded. "Skywalker assigned me."

The man looked up at Skar for a closer inspection. Then his eyes dimmed slightly in curiosity. "Tell me, Jarod, what do you specialize in?"

Skar remembered the code Luke had given him. "Protection."

Giving a pleased nod, the man smiled briefly before crumbling the flimsiplast in his hands and throwing the paper-ball to the wind. "You are the last one onboard. Get going, and good luck."

"Thank you," Skar said before walking past the man and set his first step on the ramp.

"One more thing."

Halfway up the ramp Skar turned to see the guard. The man held his hand up to his temple in a salute. "May the Force be with you."

Skar nodded and walked up the ramp, hearing it shut tight behind him. When he looked up to see the passenger hold, seven sets of eyes stared back at him. There was a moment of unspoken disbelief between them and Skar waited it out by remaining standing where he was. After a while the seven soldiers looked back at each other, continuing their previous activity. Skar saw the curls of their lips and knew he had just been the subject of a private joke.

The men strapped down and readied themselves for takeoff and Skar could already feel the testosterone levels peaking in the room. The soldiers were all in the mid-twenties, a full ten years younger than him. Skar allowed their joke to wash over him, leaving him unaffected and uncaring, but did note to himself that if battle-experience was measured in testosterone, these 'boys' should have been Generals by now.

Skar sat down in the only remaining seat and leaned back, focusing his eyes on a spot on the wall across from him, confident that that spot was now his only friend onboard. The ship buckled before take-off, and as soon as Skar heard the confirmation from Traffic Control over the intercom, he laid back and tried to fall asleep, trying his best to find some calm before the storm.

_Off I go, into the belly of the beast.

* * *

_

Under the cloak of the night Rishi Kjoil watched from his perch as the stealth ship lifted from the platform fifty stories beneath him. Its jets burned in the dark evening, soon flaring up its thrust and becoming nothing more than a twinkle against a carpet of stars. Rishi latched onto the sensation of his Master for as long as he could, eager to feel the man's presence for as long as possible. It didn't last nearly as long as he had hoped, he could hold onto Master Skar until the ship entered hyperspace which happened all too soon, for Rishi's taste.

Then he was gone, leaving a vacant lot in Rishi's tumult of a heart.

Wiping away the twin tears on his cheeks, Rishi leaned backwards and laid down on his back on the roof of the skyscraper, staring up at the millions of spying eyes of light above him. Rishi tried not to think of the possibility that he might not see his Master ever again. He wished he could have gone with him, but Master Skar had insisted on him staying behind, claiming Rishi's abilities were not enough for what they might encounter. He considered it extremely arrogant of his Master to think so, when they hadn't seen each other for so long. Rishi had accepted it then, only so he wouldn't have to get into another argument with his Master. He also knew that starting an argument on that topic would prove the lack of readiness Master Skar had pointed out. Though happy he hadn't begun the argument, he knew that he had wanted to, and that said enough.

_Fine. _

Master Skar had asked him to stay behind because he couldn't handle such a mission. But there _was _a mission he could handle. The datacard that had held the message from the terrorists, signed by Master Skar's old and friend Kayupa, had to have come from somewhere. Wedder Dhohji, the information broker that had died delivering the card to Rishi, had to have obtained it from someone. And Rishi believed that someone was likely working for the terrorists.

Someone had paid Wedder to deliver that message and Rishi thought that by finding out who, he might know more about the terrorists, possible even find something that would help Master Luke's or Master Skar's investigation. Luke was supposed to leave for Msst in the morning, but if he hurried he might have something that would help Luke before his departure.

Rishi sat back up, staring out at Coruscant, such a brilliant city with so many charms. It was rare that he was this high up, at the very peak of the city's height. All his time was spent in the underground, to which he would soon return to learn more about the terrorists, but for now he wanted to saver the moment. It was rare he had moments like this, and he felt he deserved one.

Moments later, Rishi was deep inside the building, looking up information on a local databank on Coruscant. He looked up under the listings of most wanted criminals that had yet to be brought into custody. Then he looked for those highest on the list that were wanted for illegal transfer of information. The most wanted tended to be most knowledgeable.

Rishi had been given two names to look up. He chose to look up the second man first, since he was the most renown information broker on Coruscant. Even Rishi had heard the name before. Spending as much time as he did in the underground, knowledge about those parts seemed to flow to him on its own.

There were other reasons for selecting the second man to look up first. The first name he'd been given was Wedder Dhohji.

Armed with a new target to look for, Drennen Sari, Rishi acquisitioned a speeder and continued down into the lower levels of the city, already longing for the stars once again, as the familiarity of the seedy underbelly of Coruscant reached him.

Back on the dusty and filthy streets, littered with shops, stands, bars and other establishments, Rishi felt his focus begin to rebuild. All though his heart still ached at his Master's departure he now saw his own role in these events become more rounded. He only hoped he could find something useful in time. Evading the eyes of the pedestrians, Rishi allowed his presence to fade in with the rest of the people, leaving the public oblivious to his true nature and power.

He decided to look up Drennen Sari's last known address, but he didn't really expect to find the man there. Being on the New Republic's most wanted list was warrant enough to make you run for your life and seek shelter elsewhere until the storm faded out. Drennen had been on that list for a month, enough to earn a fifty-thousand bounty on his head, meaning that the local police had most likely already given up on him. That was an annoyance of some measure because it meant that Drennen might not show his face too soon. However a man like him couldn't get off Coruscant with a warrant for his arrest, and the man couldn't change to another profession which meant that the man hopefully would soon surface again, even more famous because of his newly strengthened reputation.

All Rishi had to do was wait. And get to him before any hunter. Drennen's apartment in the lower levels had been vacated a long time when Rishi got there. The layer of dust covering everything stuck to Rishi's nostrils and he covered the lower part of his face with his wrist as he searched through the apartment.

He found little of use, by touching the floor and reaching out to the Force he could see things that had happened recently in the apartment. The Republic police had never been here to look for him, probably guessing as Rishi had that the man would be too smart to be here. A bounty hunter had been here though, an amateur by Rishi's estimate because he had missed the one clue that Rishi had found.

An ashtray stood in the center of a round glass table in the living room. The kind people swiped from bars. And this one had the name of a bar on the side too. The Staggering Tusken. Rishi knew the place, it wasn't too far from there and it was most likely the best place to find Drennen. Rishi doubted the man's situation would keep him from his favorite bar, petty lowlife scum like this usually didn't. Rishi also suspected the man would soon make his appearance there, eager for a job and money. Enough to get him off Coruscant before someone caught on to him.

Showing up at the Tusken was stupid, but Rishi suspected the man would be growing desperate by now and would soon walk his way into trouble. He only hoped that the trouble would be him, and not the local police or this bounty hunter.

Leaving for the bar the moment he found the ashtray, Rishi hopped into his speeder and made way for the Staggering Tusken. The ride wasn't far, but Rishi felt like time was moving against him. Drennen might not have long time to live if he was planning on leaving Coruscant tonight or any time soon.

Reaching his destination, Rishi parked the speeder and walked down the small steps that lead to the Staggering Tusken. Rishi employed his fade-in technique again, as he saw the six foot high, and half that in width, doorman, eyeing anyone with a angry frown on his face. Before approaching the doorman Rishi reached out to him and searched through his short-term memory, none of the faces that appeared there looked like Drennen and the doorman was well pleased with tonight's calm customers. No bar-fights, no trouble.

Drennen hadn't shown up yet.

Rishi then 'borrowed' the face of one of the doorman's most liked customers, and used the Force to implant the face across his own. The doorman noticed him.

"Ah, Neuy! Come over here!" the wide and menacing doorman bellowed, waving Rishi forth. "You late, Gravth beginning to think you not show up!"

Reluctantly Rishi walked over the alien, who grabbed the tiny Jedi in his wide arms and gave him a big bear-hug, shaking Rishi several times before dropping him to the ground. Rishi panted for air, he was choking from more than just the hug, the smell coming off the creature smelt like rotted fish served with all-you-could-drink perspiration.

Rishi knew it was important for him to play it cool, just like the real Neuy would, used to this kind of torture. "Hey, Gravth," Rishi coughed, "how's business tonight?"

Gravth, who looked like an experimental breeding between a Hutt and a Gamorrean, snorted and waved his fat hand carelessly at the entrance to the Tusken. "Slow as usual. You know what people are like here, once they see Gravth, they don't make trouble! Gravth made employee of the month last night!"

Sensing the alien's pride, and guessing that was happening to its face must've been a smile, Rishi pretended to congratulate him. Rishi guessed making employee of the month couldn't have been too hard in a place like this. How difficult was it to stand in a doorway and scare people off by simple being who you were? And Rishi was likely to blame the lack of business on the alien's stink. Rishi wanted more than anything to use the Force to dampen the foul odor, but wouldn't risk losing his mask.

"Gravth talked to sister today," the alien grunted.

Rishi tried to move some of his energy onto the alien's mind, to find out what to respond to such a statement. He didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. But before he could, Gravth placed his giant palm on Rishi's shoulder and gave it a good tug, gut-laughing like a pig, his entire body waving in waves of repulsive flesh pockets.

"She said you treated her like gentleman!" Gravth gave Rishi a slap on the back, nearly knocking him over. "You been good to her, Gravth happy with you!"

Rishi found it hard to imagine what a female version of this kind of alien looked like, but when he succeeded he wished he hadn't. And wherever the real Neuy was, he couldn't blame him for not trying anything with Gravth's sister. Which lead him to wonder why anyone would date someone of that…magnitude in the first place.

"Your sister was a delightful companion," Rishi faked.

Gravth gave Rishi another slap on the back and pushed him through the entrance. "Go on, Neuy, you can buy Gravth a drink later when shift end."

Rishi made it through the entrance, wounded only the foul stench of sweat that seemed to cling to him now. As soon as Gravth turned his attention away Rishi dropped the mask and headed for a barstool near the counter. The bar reeked of mischief in the Force, each person in the bar with something on their conscience. Every creature, being or sentient in the bar had bulges sticking out under their garments, concealed weapons, everyone was a danger and potential trouble. Rishi only hoped very few of them knew the face of Drennen Sari like he did, he didn't want to fight all of them. Not that he doubted even for a second whether or not he would win.

He knew he would.

Rishi dropped into the stool, his back to most of the bar, while ordering a drink from the barkeep with eight arms. Rishi didn't recognize the species, but he guessed having eight arms was useful behind the counter of a bar.

The bartender served Rishi his drink with a growl, animosity radiating from him like the smell of the doorman. Rishi gave him a questioning look.

The barkeep looked around for nosy eyes. "You don't belong here."

Rishi held the glass to his face. "Why not?"

"Humans, most people here don't like 'em. Humans are Jedi."

Rishi swallowed some of the liquor, amazed at the small knowledge of the alien, wounded slightly by the fact that the bartender had pecked him as a Jedi so fast. "Not just humans, anyone has the - "

The bartender slammed one of his hands down on the counter in front of Rishi. "You…are Jedi."

Rishi hid his surprise well, but on the outside only. "What makes you think that?"

The bartender nodded towards the entrance, to Gravth the doorman. "I saw the way he talked to you. Gravth is a simple one, he only treats two people like that in this Galaxy. You're neither of them."

Rishi nodded, aware now that his tactic to get into the bar had not gone unnoticed by all. "I'm looking for someone."

The bartender frowned, cleaning a mug with one set of hands, while another pair was mixing a drink. "Your being here is trouble. So if I can get you out of here somehow, I will. Ask away. I know any patron who comes in here."

Rishi made sure to drown out his sentence from the rest of the crowd, and made the bartender the sole hearer. "Drennen Sari."

The bartender's face clouded somewhat, and indeed he did know the name. The bartender leaned in to Rishi again. "A wanted man, police and hunters are after him. He used to come here but he hasn't for a few weeks now. If I were him, I'd have hopped on the first ferry out of here and gone to a Galaxy far, far away."

"He wouldn't be able to leave the system while being one of the New Republic's most wanted. He's _still _here."

The bartender didn't argue. "I've talked with him, a few times. He didn't seem too smart. Are you thinking he'll show up here?" The mere mentioning of the possibility was proof that the bartender also thought Drennen was dumb enough to do that.

"Didn't he do most of his business here?"

The bartender grunted. "I wouldn't know. And if I did know I could end up in detention." The man gave Rishi a wink. "Know what I mean?"

Rishi understood. "All I want is Drennen. I'm not here to throw you or anyone else in jail."

The bartender frowned. "Why are you after Drennen anyway? He did something to upset the Jedi too?" The bartender seemed amused. "Or do the Jedi need someone to transfer information?"

"You've heard about the takeover in the Sumitra Sector?"

The bartender chuckled. "That's what this is about?"

"A broker called Wedder Dhohji died sometime earlier today. He was delivering a datacard that had information about the terrorists. I'm looking for whoever gave him that card. I figured Drennen might've known something and that it might have something to do with the Senate bombing. From what I hear Drennen is the man you go to when you've got intel to peddle around here."

Without saying a word, the bartender walked away to talk to another customer down the counter, leaving Rishi with his questions unanswered and feeling slightly blown off. He returned to his drink, realizing he'd obtained no new information, only that Drennen was stupid enough to show up here. Sometimes the stupidity of others was your safest bet. You can always rely on someone to be stupid, but expecting wisdom you were easily let down.

Rishi drowned the drink, turned his attention to the rest of the bar, dozens of suspicious characters engaging in what could only be illegal activities.

Then he caught sight of Gravth talking to someone outside, Gravth looked somewhat hesitant about the man he was talking to, and Rishi found it odd for someone like Gravth to feel intimidated by anyone. Gravth stepped aside, and followed the man with his eyes as he stepped into the bar.

This lonely soul who'd scared Gravth was wearing casual pants over worn brown boots, a holster sticking out on his right hip. He also wore a red vest over a sand-colored shirt. All his clothes were standard and not even attention-worthy in appearance, it was his race that made him stick out. He was a blue-skinned Twi'lek, a tall, thin humanoid, except for the two tentacles, or tails, that protruded through the back of his head and wrapped around his shoulders.

His red eyes and sly smile told Rishi that he was trouble. And as he reached out to him with the Force, he got confirmation. It was the hunter.

A pat on his shoulder made Rishi turn around towards the bar, the barkeep was back. Once again he leaned in so they could talk in private.

"That guy over there says that Wedder used to hang out with another broker called Crip. They used to be tight, apparently. Crip doesn't come here, but he can usually be found on one of the higher levels. He works out of an alley near the hangars up there. He was the one who knew Wedder best, he may know who hired him."

Rishi wasn't ready to leave yet. "What can you tell me about the wormhead that just walked in?"

The bartender looked up fast, and then looked down again. "A local hunter." the bartender sighed. "Just my luck. If Drennen shows up there's going to be all kinds of trouble."

Rishi expanded his awareness. "Don't worry. I'll make sure nothing happens."

The bartender gave him his best scolding look. "You are the trouble I was talking about! Keep your lightsaber to yourself and get out of here!"

Rishi still wasn't convinced. "The hunter…why is he here unless he thinks Drennen will show up here?"

"Are you daft! Get out of my bar or I'll have you thrown out! Forget about Drennen - " The bartender stopped talking as another customer walked through the door. "Oh, Sith!"

Rishi turned around in his chair and confirmed his worst fear with his own eyes.

Drennen had just walked in.

And the hunter was already walking across the bar to intercept him.

"Call security," Rishi said, retrieving his lightsaber from a thigh pocket, "I hope you're insured." Rishi started walking dedicatedly towards Drennen, a small man with a very nervous look on his face. Rishi felt like he was walking against waves, everywhere people stepped in front of him, and he had to squeeze his way through them. At first glance it didn't look like he was going to make it, the hunter already had his blaster out and was almost behind Drennen.

And to add to the mix, three Trandoshans stepped out of nowhere and bumped into Rishi, slamming him down onto the floor. Ignoring them for the moment, Rishi looked through their legs and tails to see Drennen still alive, sitting alone in a booth but the hunter was close enough now to talk to the man. Rishi jumped to a stand, pushing the Trandoshans back.

One of them whistled impressively, then the three of them surrounded Rishi, keeping him contained. "A live one. We don't like humans here." The reptilian Trandoshan remarked with a hiss, his long tongue slipping in and out of his mouth like a snake's. "They foul the place up. You'll have to leave."

Out of the blue Rishi was reminded of a situation similar to this that Master Skar had been in. He'd once been approached by a couple of ruffians, and he'd walked away alive by flashing his lightsaber, but not using it, threatening the trouble-makers into leaving. Master Skar had never approved of killing, he believed it was not always the right course, and so did Rishi.

But right now all he could think of was Drennen, soon to be deceased if these Trandoshans didn't back off. Rishi felt pearls of fear starting to form on his forehead. "I'm warning you - "

The Trandoshan in front rammed its scaled fist into his belly, dropping Rishi to his knees, choking. The Trandoshans congratulated each other with snarls and growls, the rest of the bar oblivious to the scene, or too afraid to intervene. Rishi finally managed to inhale the dusty air again, and got himself back up, one hand covering his stomach.

"Had enough..._human_?"

Rishi caught a glance of the hunter talking to Drennen in the booth, Drennen's face alive with panic and fear as the hunter pointed a blaster at him. Maybe it was too late, Rishi thought. There was no way he could get past the Trandoshans in time, without hurting them.

Giving him incentive, the main Trandoshan wheeled back his fist for another punch, and the fist came flying at Rishi's face. But the hand never got far. Severed in mid-flight at the wrist by a brilliant blue blade, as it came up in Rishi's defense stance, the hand flew past Rishi and onwards through the bar, bouncing off the floor, while its owner cried out in pain. Rishi kicked sideways at the closest of the other two Trandoshans, throwing him back on a table that folded beneath him.

Everywhere was panic, the dozens of customers closest reeling back against the walls, away from the blade that glistened in Rishi's hands. The third Trandoshan reached for his blaster and got off a shot, but it flew harmlessly to the ceiling as Rishi kicked the blaster from his hands and chopped off both the Trandoshan's hands at the wrists.

The first Trandoshan, his wound cauterized at the wrist, came back up, snarling in anger and a face full of hatred and pain as he reached for Rishi with his remaining hand. The alien presented no real threat, but the lack of time and Rishi's confusion caused the alien to lose the rest of his arm and his life, as Rishi swung the blade around defensively and then rammed the blade through the alien's chest in one smooth motion.

The Trandoshan hung there for a second or two, dangling painfully before Rishi retracted the blade and the alien dropped to the floor, smoke rising from the wound in its back. All three Trandoshans disarmed, literally, Rishi frowned upon his own rash action, he hadn't intended to kill the alien, but the confusion and his need to save Drennen had come first.

It had worked, the rest of the aliens in the bar moved even further away from him, most of them running for the exit. Deciding to contemplate his actions later, Rishi ran forward towards the Twi'lek hunter in the booth with Drennen. The Twi'lek was quick to guess that Rishi was going for him, judging by the speed at which he moved the blaster from Drennen to point at Rishi. The Twi'lek got off two shots, which Rishi deflected into the ceiling, clear of wounding anyone else in the bar.

The blue-skinned Twi'lek stopped shooting, but didn't remove his aim from Rishi. "This man's mine!" he rasped.

Rishi leveled his blade. "I'm not after the bounty."

Suddenly realizing his mistake, Rishi felt the twenty or so aliens left in the bar to present a threat as they all reached for their weapons. The word bounty seemed to have awakened the greed in all of them. Rishi cursed himself and felt surrounded. The whole place had turned against each other, everyone out for the reward, only one of them able to get it. Everywhere were rifles, blasters, blades and other kinds of weapons aimed at him.

"Let not stupidity ferry your way into death," Rishi begged more than ordered.

"Leave it to a Jedi to get you killed!" the Twi'lek spat as he realized the danger too. Behind the hunter Drennen was shaking in his seat, suddenly the center of attention for all of them.

Rishi held up his hand to ward them back. "Its...really a very small bounty - "

But it didn't matter to them, all of them were willing to pit themselves against a Jedi, lightsaber or not. Rishi expanded his awareness to take in the entire bar, keeping an eye on every alien with the Force, cautious of any move. But he knew it wouldn't save him, or Drennen.

Instead he opted for a more convincing weapon; fear. Rishi implanted the most powerful feeling of fear and reverence he could into the mind of each alien, making himself the worst nightmare they could ever imagine. It worked more obviously on some of them, those who started to move away from him instead of getting closer. All of the others seemed to hesitate too, but something still motivated them to approach even their most feared enemy.

Deciding to boost up his magic, Rishi swirled the lightsaber in a giant arc. "I am Jedi! Anyone who oppose me will suffer the consequences!"

The tactic worked wonders, everyone was starting to back off, governed by their fear of him. But as the first ones reached the door they were pushed back by the giant Gravth who came smashing his way into the bar, a very mean look on his face, his bulbous cheeks red with anger. He looked through the bar, scanning it for someone, and then his eyes stopped on Rishi, mistaking him for his friend Neuy.

Gravth pulled up an accusing finger and pointed it directly at Rishi. "My sister is with child!"

Needless to say, everyone thought the same thing; everyone looked at Rishi, images of him sleeping with a female version of Gravth, and soon a flood of laughter washed through the bar from everyone except Rishi and Gravth. This crippled Rishi's plan at full capacity as their previous fear of him was now overthrown by an even stronger ridicule, and in some cases disgust. As Gravth began pushing his way through the crowd, stomping his way towards Rishi, all of the aliens followed in his wake.

"Now I know why Neuy didn't show up," Rishi muttered under his breath.

* * *

The lush plains looked inviting. So inviting that Skar chose to ignore the conscious fact that he'd dreamt them up. So welcome was the distraction that he feared the dream might end much too soon. Moving forward over the green landscape, admiring the hills in the distance towering above like castles, Skar felt the dream wrap itself around him like a cloth. Warming him and securing him inside the Force. Skar walked across the plains, only partially aware that he was moving. His feet hovered across the grass, his fingers outstretched feeling the petals as they slipped through his fingers.

Then they came, just as they had always done, stormtroopers marching over the hillside coming towards him. Their white armor glistening over the green nature, like a perverse mistake of evolution. Unshaken by their approach Skar ignored them and counted another number to the amount of times he'd had this dream before. The first had been many years ago, and it marked the anniversary of the first time he'd spoken with Shinran.

Skar walked closer to the stormtroopers. Walked in between them, felt their presence around him, so close he could hear their armor clattering, and none of the parties took any notice of the other. It was just a dream.

The first time he'd endured this dream, he'd killed the stormtroopers as they passed him. They'd still marched on, ignoring him. The second time he'd waited for them to attack, and they hadn't. He knew a warning laid in the dream, and he'd seen it the first time. He'd chopped down stormtroopers left and right, only to bring more into existence. The ones he'd killed had morphed into vicious warrior creatures of a kind the Galaxy had yet to see. Skar had a fear a part of his fate would be to someday meet these creatures. They marked an evil to this world, that much he felt.

Yet he had never thought to warn anyone about them. Something told him that this wasn't the right time for another threat. The Galaxy had yet to heal completely from the terror of the Empire.

As the last of the stormtroopers passed him and they disappeared behind the next hill, Skar smiled at the blue sky and the open space. As long as the dream didn't appear hostile there was yet time to prepare for the new threat.

Skar waved his hand and the dream usually vanished when he did.

But not this time.

He tried again but to the same effect.

_You took a vow_, a distant voice said from behind him.

Skar swirled to face the presence, drawing his lightsaber as he went, seeing a shadow man in a black cloak carelessly looking back at him. The man was standing on a boulder with the gleaning blue sky behind him. Skar powered up his green blade. Skar couldn't make out his face. He saw only the black cloak and the shadows within that hid the man's identity.

"Who are you?"

The man started laughing, spiting Skar's ignorance. _I am you._

Skar struck with the lightsaber, splitting the man in two only to see the man return untouched, still poised on the boulder, laughing. Skar looked down at his lightsaber, deeming it useless.

The man held out his hand to Skar, almost so inviting Skar felt himself being drawn to the man. As the dark hand reached out to him, the light around them started to fade, darkening with every second until Skar could no longer see the perfect sky above them, no longer feel the freshness of the grass beneath his boots.

Skar stood his ground, eager for answers as to why this man had invaded his mind. The man's face could not be seen in his shadow form, only the soft voice that made Skar feel safe inside.

_I am you._

Skar felt the sudden cold wind pulling at him. The man started to fade, pulling himself into a tiny specter of darkness before vanishing completely.

"Wait!"

But it was too late. The man was gone.

Skar jolted out of his sleep. He was first caught off guard by the small tremor he'd felt in the Force, and then by the ship's slow speed. The ship had moved out of hyperspace, yet all the soldiers were still chatting away casually. In his mind they should be grabbing their guns and getting ready for descent. He was about to get up and start shouting commands at them, when he remembered that the ship would make two stops along the way to Regana, checking in for updates on the situation from Coruscant at each stop.

The trip itself would take a little over a week, even in a ship as fast as the stealth cruiser, and a lot could change over a week. Skar thanked the stars he hadn't made a fool of himself. As if things weren't tense enough between him and the soldiers, he didn't have to make another scene to alienate himself from them. The soldiers were dealing sabacc cards between each other, happily engaged in some kind of event that would take their minds and nerves off the battle ahead. Skar didn't blame them, infact he sympathized with them. He wished they were there already. So far they were in the last leg of the trip. Only a few more days before he could stretch his legs again and breathe natural air.

He considered meditating but knew it had no real effect on him. Somehow he felt more at ease in a simulator than sitting on the floor thinking hard. Skar cleared his dry throat and tried to remember the last time he'd talked. It had to have been the guard on Coruscant that had allowed him onto the ship. But that was half a week ago. He'd had no conversations with the soldiers and that seemed to work. They stayed out of his space, and he stayed out of theirs. At least that way he wouldn't have to mourn them when they died.

Skar glanced around at the young men, all of them slightly older than Rishi, but even he seemed more intelligent than they did. Not that these boys were stupid but their knowledge seemed to exist only around one thing and that thing was war. Freighting to admit, but Skar knew that Rishi would have fitted right in with these guys if he hadn't had the Force to alert him to grander things in life.

The ship returned to hyperspace and Skar took that as proof that nothing had changed about Regana, the Sons of Destiny or the hostage situation. The muffled hum of the ship's engine kept him awake this time, he felt the micro-vibrations in the floor and in the seat. The soldiers couldn't feel something like that, but his awareness in the Force allowed him to see and perceive things that normal men could not.

Looking at each of the soldiers, he saw expressions on their faces that reminded him of Rishi. Rishi seemed a million miles away now, which was likely true, and Skar had no way of reaching him. They'd left things so unfinished, the feud between them, the arguments. It was the only doubt Skar had about taking this mission, the fact that he would hate never being able to mend things with Rishi after their last conversation. He couldn't shake the sensation that came with thinking of their rift, that he was completely alone in the world. In the past he'd had a Master to give him advice and guidance. He'd had a brother to show him the right path through life. And he'd had a lover, Shinran, to hold him when he was down and share his pain.

And once he'd had an apprentice.

Skar thought of Luke. Before joining the Republic nine years ago Skar had heard great stories of the brave Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, the New Republic's shining beacon of hope. The one they all looked to for help. At the other end of the spectrum was himself, always slightly more concerned with himself than others who might need him. His allegiance to the Jedi Order was on ice for the time being. It was a time of introspection. Even this mission was personal, the lives of the hostages a mere second.

Skar frowned, trying to think of a time when he hadn't studied himself endlessly to find out who he was and come up with nothing. He remembered times when he'd stretched out to the minds of the other Jedi in the Republic and everywhere he felt the same thing; why wasn't he out fighting the bad guys to protect them? People knew only the legends of Jedi who set themselves out as guardians of hope and justice. How could they even imagine that the Jedi might have problems too? Or maybe it was just Kjoil, their passion slightly inhibiting them from always doing the honorable or right thing.

_Enlightened, yet I stumble through the dark..._

Luke had become his friend, though their bond was not as tight as the one he'd shared with Kayupa. That was why Skar was really going, to feel that bond again, to see Kayupa again, to know he wasn't alone. In some ways he felt things were brightening up with Regana in the path ahead, it felt like the right path, even through the Force. This was the right way to go. But so many things had seemed right in the past only to end up in a catastrophe. He felt his heart stiffen and his emotions were pulled out for closer inspection, tracing the loneliness back to its origin.

_Shinran._

_Is it true that the pain inside me…could be you? _

Skar thought of himself as strong and believed that the pain from losing her would someday turn to vapor. Yet every time he thought it was gone, when he dared to let go of her, the pain lingered on. He'd dealt with the pain every way he knew how. He'd tried shutting her out, effortlessly ignoring the pain. And he'd tried the opposite; he'd tried confronting the pain so hard that the mere effort could bring him to his knees. The pain was his greatest enemy. And every time he thought he could choke it to death, it laughed back at him unwilling to die. Desperate to think of some way of going on, to find his path, he realized the future would always bring him back to the past.

Skar thought maybe remembering the good things about her would help conquer the pain eventually. Maybe it was the key. In his dreams, as his memories unwound, he and Shinran had always been together. Standing by each other's side, strong only together. Their strength dependant on that inner force that pulled them together. Like a ship driving on the fuel of the other. Fighting together against whatever evil they could come across. She being the beauty in his world, him being the strength in hers. Not caring for anything but each other and the love that glued them together.

_But she's gone. A dream out of reach. A dream once so real._

Skar realized that at some point in their life people began to look for a savior. Someone to protect them. It was nature; no one was bound to be alone through life and it was this idea that drove humans to invent terms like 'the one' and 'meant to be'. It was two completely different terms but humans had patched them up, believing life would somehow conjure up someone for them to love. That love would come floating on a little cloud.

Skar knew in his heart that if Shinran had lived to this day he would never have even thought about joining up with the New Republic. His love for her was strong and he began to see the simplicities in the Kjoil passion. Their love drove them to extreme extends. What was in their hearts was the only true path to follow.

Skar pulled himself together and straightened out his back, pondering how he could ever get over the pain. Or if he even wanted to get over it?

_How do you let go of a dream that came true?_

Sensing someone's attention drawn to him, Skar looked up at the man sitting across from him. A fresh-faced youth with a military haircut and a calm sense of maturity in his eyes. The man's feet were tapping nervously, an anxiety simmering beneath the man's surface. Setting him apart from all the others, this one was already dressed in full combat gear, his rifle balanced on his thighs. The man was already prepared for what was coming. All the others were dressed plainly, but the man across from him stood out as much as…

Skar smiled. As much as himself.

Thinking the man needed to relax more than he did, Skar shook his head and smiled politely. "You nervous?"

The man kept his eyes on the floor as he exhaled. "I'm always jumpy before a mission. It usually last right until the moment I'm safe on the extraction ship again. I never sleep during a mission, even if someone is guarding the camp. I take stimulants to keep myself awake, along with caffeine pills and adrenaline shots."

Skar sharpened his gaze on the man's face. "Do your superiors approve of drugs?"

"No," the man shook his head, smirking, "but they don't talk about it, even when they know we take them. Whatever gets the job done. My instructors told me about certain medicaments that don't damage your body, unless exploited."

Skar understood the sentiment. "On the battlefield, you care for your life, not your health."

The man nodded. "You learn to separate the two. But better to go to the doctor or a rehab facility when I get back, than to die out there."

Skar rubbed his kneecaps nervously. "That's what combat does to you. Your weapon becomes your best friend, every action you make counts, and the only way you can stay alive is by killing others that think just like you."

The man's gaze lifted to inspect Skar more carefully. "You're not really a technician, are you?"

Skar smiled. "What makes you think that?"

The man rubbed his own chin.

Skar got it. "Its the beard, right?" Skar realized he'd let his guard down. And rather than trying to cover it up he came clean. "No, I was sent as a special liaison."

The man snorted. "Special, huh? Are you even armed?"

Skar padded the blaster on his hip. "Of course."

The man made a suspicious look. "You're here to check on us?"

Skar shook his head and slowly made a calm smile. "No, I'm a grunt just like you."

"What's your name?"

"Jarod Marhar," Skar lied. _Safer this way._

"Mine's Kast."

"Nice to meet you, Kast," Skar held out his hand and they shook. "Keeping this wave of honesty going, your team isn't any normal army group, is it?"

Kast shook his head slowly. "We're so-called a wet-works team. Stealth intrusion. The kind you send in when you want things handled quickly and quietly. Usually we don't ship out like this. I don't like flying into a system I know is hostile."

Skar shared the feeling. "Its different once you're on the ground, you feel more in control than you do trapped in a ship."

Kast nodded. "When your feet touch the ground there's a world of difference. I don't trust science enough to lay my life in its hands. Our superiors back on Coruscant get the benefit of watching it all on their screens. War's become a game, an interactive simulation. But we're the ones getting our hands dirty."

A feeling of companionship arose in Skar. "Information is the latest in warfare. Technology advances everyday but the principles of battle stay the same. Its not about equipment or gear, its about the expertise and experience."

Kast nodded solemnly. "You know a lot about combat."

Skar guessed he did, but it hadn't been a conscious choice for him. He hadn't studied it. Somehow he always ended up in situations where they were the most valuable traits. Skar nodded grimly. "I know…what Death looks like."

Kast's eyes locked with Skar's and an unspoken sense of understanding passed between them. "Death…looks like you and me, Jarod. Guns don't kill people. Wars don't kill people." Kast pointed at himself and then pointed at Skar. "You and me…we kill people."

Skar frowned. "For the greater good."

"More like the greater evil," Kast grinned, "we're a special breed. You can't train people to do the things we do. People like us…we're predisposed towards it. We don't like it, but its our fate."

Skar caught himself chuckling. "You believe that myth?"

"I can't see myself working in some office, not after what I've seen. There's a special kind of change that comes with holding a rifle to your shoulder and laying down a screen of bolts to protect your team. Knowing you would take another life to protect a friend. There's not a doubt in my mind that I would do anything to protect my friends and my team. Once you've seen Death march across the battlefield, picking up the souls you've left behind, once you decide that someone else is going to die…and then do it - how can you ever see life in the same light again? Its a different world from what most people know."

Skar rubbed his face. "War has to have an objective behind it, a real one, before taking a life can be justified. People call soldiers killers or mercenaries, they don't realize the kind of involvement you have to possess. Taking a life is one thing, but if its just obeying orders; then you're nothing but a killer. You shouldn't fight a war that you don't believe in."

Kast nodded. "My parents wanted me to get an education. They wanted me to get a career, they wanted me make a change in other people's lives. But when I joined the military they hated it."

Skar was amazed how easily these personal themes flowed between them, how easily they'd connected. Maybe it was the edginess, the nervousness about the mission, that tore down their borders. But it felt good for a change to talk to someone. "Why'd you join?"

Kast's gaze became flaky and he pulled back from the conversation, and stared at the ceiling. Skar could feel indecision rolling around in the man. He could tell Kast's mind was working its way around trying to find the answer but was failing. In the end the man forfeited, sat back with a very self-loathing look on his face. "I can barely remember anymore"

Skar didn't force the subject any further. "I'm sure you'll remember once we set down. Once the reality reveals itself."

The person next to Kast, a young man in his early twenties with red hair and a over-confident look in his eyes, answered for him. "I wouldn't put my money on it. Kast doesn't even do well in simulators." The young boy looked at him suspiciously. "What are you doing in this outfit?"

Skar caught the eyes of every soldier in the hold, that feeling of self-consciousness nearly choking him. He wished they'd all look away again. "I'm with a special unit, assigned to assist you in every way I can."

"Special unit?" the boy said, like he didn't believe it. He waved his hand around at all the other soldiers. "We are the Dragon's Tooth. The best of the best. We get sent in whenever the Republic finds itself in trouble they can't solve over a desk." The boy padded his weapon like a pet. "Even those Jedi can't stand up to the strength we bring into a battle zone. Hell, I'd bet my grenade launcher against a lightsaber any day of the week. Can't deflect something that blows up in your face."

Kast seemed to ignore Red, better to leave the lad to his own fantasies than to wreck his reality, and turned his attention back to Skar. "How did you end up working as Skywalker's liaison?"

Skar applied the Force to his words, making them final. "I'm not allowed to tell you."

Kast, coaxed by the manipulation, nodded and the topic was closed between them.

But not with Red. "Hey, we know about the covert stuff that goes on. The Dragon's Tooth doesn't even exist officially. We're the cleaning crew. Tell us."

"No, I can't," Skar said, applying another dose of mind-control to his voice.

Red sat back with an overacted look of surprise on his face, he scratched his chin in an attempt to play confused. "Well, this is news to me. I was told we were the cream of the crop. You saying you're with a higher unit?"

The mind-trick hadn't worked. "No, I'm not."

"Well, if you're from a unit that's lower than ours, what are you doing here? I trust these guys, I can trust them to save my butt when I'm in trouble - "

"Which happens a lot," Kast said smirking.

Skar smiled briefly - and out of the corner of his eyes he spotted the boy jumping from his seat, unsheathing his dagger and grabbing Kast's collar. Red pulled him to his feet and slammed his supposed comrade against the wall. Skar thought he heard a bone break.

"Hey, what's going on back there!" the pilot shouted from the bridge.

Skar observed Red's eyes, saw the desperate attempt to redeem his honor in the back of his mind, saw that the boy knew what he was doing was not only weak, but stupid. Kast stayed cool, but there was a weakness somewhere in his eyes that told him he was maybe expecting what Red was doing. Red held the dagger back, ready to cut Kast if the man tempted him.

Skar sat frozen in his seat, unsure how he could disarm Red.

The boy raised his dagger. "You should've stayed behind, Kast. I can't imagine why the commander even let you come. You're a liability!"

One of the nearest soldiers tugged at Red's clothes, eager to get the red-haired youth to stop. "Red, sit down, leave him alone."

The guy next to Skar agreed, all though his tone was much more serious. "Red. Sit down."

"Come on, guys," Red said, "you all saw what happened back in the Gauntlet. Kast here is a risk. He's going to get us all killed."

Skar had no idea but they were talking about, but he didn't think it mattered. He wasn't about to let Red cut the man because of whatever had happened in the past. He felt Kayupa's radiant spirit warning him inside his head. Whenever you have enemies, you either end up pointing a blaster at someone, or someone points a blaster at you, kid.

Skar rose from his seat, and by the way Red moved his hand back to point the blade at him instead, Skar guessed Red was anticipating Skar's interaction.

"You stay back, you have no part in this."

Skar was not deterred. "I think I do."

Red looked over his shoulder at him, while Kast remained pinned to the wall. "Do you wanna get cut!"

Skar stepped forward, calmly, and walked so close that the tip of Red's blade touched his chin. Skar stood there, confident in his own move, glaring down upon Red like he was just the next guy in line for a beating. "Put down the dagger."

But Red was too angry to listen. "Shut up! You don't belong here either! I'm pretty good with blades!"

Skar felt the lightsaber weighing on his hip. "Me too."

Then it happened. Red had to pull the dagger away from his chin in order to even make a proper cut, and he did. Skar leaned his head aside as the blade thrust past his left ear and the blade chipped off on the wall behind him. Skar clutched Red's throat in his hand, as the boy moved with the thrust, slamming him up against the wall, like he'd done with Kast, only much harder. This time Skar was sure he heard bones break. Red's face smashed against the wall and blood ran from his broken nose. By reflex Skar drew his lightsaber and held the pommel up against Red's temple.

Everyone gasped, and then silence sucked all sound of the ship. Skar looked around at them all, still holding Red's bruised face up against the cold wall, the blood running down his face. Skar could see the fear in their eyes, the word _lightsaber _almost on their lips, and he stood there for another five seconds, letting the image sink in, letting them know who he was, and that he wouldn't tolerate this kind of infighting again.

When his point was made Skar let go of Red and watched the boy as he slumped into a heap next to the seat. Skar nudged Red away from his seat with his boot and the boy curled up on the floor, aching in pain.

Skar clipped the lightsaber to his hilt and took his own seat back. Across from him on the floor Kast looked at him, surprised but thankful. Skar leaned back in his seat and chose to close his eyes, ignoring the sickening feeling in his stomach. He went into a meditation trance almost immediately, calming his heart, mind and body. It usually didn't work to meditate but he knew the only thing that would really work would be to rip Red into pieces, to follow that boiling violence his soul hungered for; somehow he doubted everyone else would take kindly to him in the future if he followed that emotion. But he couldn't deny the temptation felt good.

_What am I getting into?_


	3. The Search For Truth

Jovis was sure that the dining room itself also was something new. He wasn't sure what it had been before. Four out of the five walls were refitted with large screens, taking up the entire space, each wall showing a slideshow of art and images. Most of the images were of peaceful terrain, mountains, hills, green fields, and pictures of blue and red skies. Jovis had no understanding of art, it wasn't something he'd ever studied but he found that some of the pictures interested him. Not because of their beauty, but because they showed worlds and places he'd never seen.

Not only admiring them because they were clues to where the terrorist group had come from, but also because their unfamiliar settings allowed him to see dozens of different new worlds, just by looking at the different walls. Maybe that was all there was to art, a way of seeing things you would otherwise never see.

Jovis raised the fork to his lips, biting on the tender meat, tasting the juices inside it as he chewed, swallowed and smiled to his dinner companions.

"Delicious, isn't it?" Kayupa said, seated to Jovis' left at the table, tasting the meat himself and the man closed his eyes while chewing, a very satisfied look on his face. "This is quite a delicacy in the Unknown Regions, Jovis. If you want I can have a shipment of it brought in. With the money you'll be earning from this venture you would be able to set up a restaurant. You could be the first in this Galaxy to have this on your menu."

Jovis laughed, anxious at the thought of future plans beyond the mission they'd been hired for. The General seemed very sure they would survive, and setting up a restaurant was the last thing Jovis thought of. "Provided all goes well."

The General stabbed another piece of meat with his fork, repeating his show from before, closing his eyes, enjoying the meat to its fullest. "You have no need to worry, Jovis. No need at all." Kayupa opened his eyes and nodded to the serving droid at the end of the table. The droid nodded back, receiving its signal that the food was satisfactory cooked. The droid whirled on its wheels and left the dining room.

The floor beneath Jovis' dirty military boots was carpeted with a very soft blue fabric which helped darken the room so one's attention was drawn to the walls and their shows instead. Jovis had to respect and admire the man for the decoration and designs he'd made. He'd turned what should have been a sweaty military base into what looked more like an expensive mansion, a place of leisure and rest.

Jovis was also surprised by the lack of activity he'd seen in the areas he'd been. There were very few men on patrol and even less going on inside. Everyone seemed to be relaxing, there was no pressure, no rushing, no stress. It was different from what he'd expected, but it was a welcome change.

In the center of their diamond-shaped table was a crystal volcano, Jovis believed it may have been fashioned from ice, with small currents of water flowing down its sides, mimicking magma. The small rivers of water went into small channels in the surface of the table, hundreds of small channels that looped around each other in an elaborate pattern before flowing back to the center of the table and back inside the volcano.

Kayupa himself sat with his back to the only window in the room, they'd torn down a wall facing the sunset and put up a large sheet of glass instead. The rays of light worked around the edges of the General, making him appear more dark than he actually was, as well as lighting up the small volcano which Jovis came to realize had small mirrors built into it. The light bounced back to the dinner plates of each individual. There were so many small touches to the room that Jovis felt sure he hadn't seen everything yet.

Even the table was built from a black rock-like substance that he believed might have been hardened lava, but wasn't sure. The surface of the table had been smoothed so efficiently that it felt more like plastic than anything else and the small channels directing the flow of the water had been hand-carved.

"Remind me to get the name of your interior decorator, though," Jovis said casually.

Kayupa chuckled to himself. "Decorating is a lot like warfare, only less bloody. Its all about staging your troops so you get the full benefit of their qualities."

Though smiling on the outside, Jovis found the comparison silly and quaint.

The diamond-shaped table could seat five people, but so far only Jovis, the General and the beautiful woman, that Jovis had come to think as the General's spouse, were dinning. Jovis was the one who had initiated this visit. In the days he'd spent on Hope's Haven he was called for when Kayupa needed to talk to him about how their arrangements were working out, mostly about the retraining of his mercenaries, but this time Jovis had made the call, eager to inform the General that his men were through with their training and that he couldn't wait for him to inspect their progress.

The General had been gracious enough to lend Jovis' team his combat simulators as well as placing the men through a rough training program by his most trusted lieutenant, a woman known only as Junn.

Jovis had only had the pleasure, except it hadn't really been a pleasure, of meeting Junn once, when he'd brought his men to the training arenas the first time. She was another perk of the job, very attractive and not the slightest bit ignorant to that fact. Jovis liked confident women, in his line of work he couldn't stand people who thought of themselves as weak or in need of a guardian. If he ever decided to have a wife, he would want someone like Junn. Someone who could handle her own.

As he'd gone to see Kayupa to inform him that his men had undergone all their training, he'd found him and the woman in the midst of dining. Jovis felt like he'd been intruding on what was clearly a private moment between the two, but to his surprise he'd been asked to join them, and a third plate had been arranged for him.

Kayupa was dressed in a gray uniform, a very expensive fabric very uncommon from the military garbs Jovis had seen him wear earlier, but the clothes made the man look less intimidating and Jovis found it easier to eat if he wasn't worried the man was hiding a weapon somewhere on his person.

The woman, even more stunning than when Jovis had first met her, was wearing a very expensive-looking black evening gown, baring only her shoulders and arms, a silver necklace and her dark hair had been arranged so perfectly that Jovis almost believed they were going to a reception or a gala. She wore very little cosmetics, so little Jovis wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't wearing any at all, not that she needed it. Even for a woman her age, time seemed to have forgotten her completely.

Jovis brought another piece of meat to his mouth, chewed it carefully with very little sound, not wanting to appear as hungry as he really was, or as nervous as he really was. "Those are nice, the images on the walls," he said once he'd swallowed, "where are they from?"

The General looked up from his plate, casting a glimpse at each of the four images showing at the moment. "The Unknown Regions."

Jovis thought the man was playing him for a fool. "Where in the Unknown Regions?"

The man smiled briefly, his fork playing with the last piece of meat on his plate. "I don't know," he said distantly, "that's why they're called the Unknown Regions."

Now Jovis was sure the man thought him to be a fool. "You don't know the names of the planets?"

The woman sipped her wine, and then entwined her fingers above her plate. "Are your men adapting well to their new home?"

She was trying to change the subject. They didn't want to talk about where they'd come from, or their knowledge about the Unknown Regions. He was on to something. And he didn't feel like letting it off the hook.

"Why is it a secret?" he asked, giving the woman his most serious face.

"I thought you came to inform us that your men are through their training," the General said, his eyes still on his plate.

What were they trying to do? Jovis hadn't had the opportunity yet to tell them that the training was over. How did they know? "If you already knew, why'd you ask me to stay?"

The woman gave him a look that said back off. "Its important for business associates to trust each other."

Jovis put down his utensils and leaned back in his seat. "This isn't business. Its war, and you both know it. I don't think you're out here to build a hologram theater," Jovis turned his eyes to the General, "or restaurants for that matter. You're out here fighting someone, and you asked me to fight beside you. If I'm going to risk my life over you two, I want to know more about you and your plans than I already do." _I'm so dead! _Jovis thought, surprised he'd been able to say the words without his voice cracking.

The woman grinned shortly, leaning back in her seat and turned her eyes to the General, appearing to counsel with him over what to do. Kayupa only gave her his grim face, very unhappy with Jovis's approach but there was resolution in those eyes as well. And that resolution gave Jovis hope that he might not die today after all.

The General's voice was almost mournful, sad. "It all began a long time ago. There was a man, whom I trusted. He tried to kill me. And he almost succeeded. He betrayed me, betrayed our trust. He…was like a brother to me. If not for the help of a very reliable friend of mine I might not be sitting here today."

Jovis listened carefully, not sure if that was the information he was looking for. "Is that what this is about? Revenge?"

The woman shook her head, her eyes on her partner, a shared grief in her eyes. "No. It goes further beyond than that."

Jovis wasn't sure what that meant.

"After my encounter with him, we traveled to the Unknown Regions."

_Now we're were getting somewhere_, Jovis thought. "What happened in the Unknown Regions? Who are the Sons of Destiny?"

The woman looked back at Jovis, her eyes full of intent, but still that light of pain in her eyes. "The Sons of Destiny are our creation. A well-disciplined army of crusaders."

Jovis asked. "For what?"

Kayupa straightened up, a proud and powerful gaze landing on Jovis. "The liberation and freedom of this Galaxy. The Republic has become a fragmented dogma, one that needs to be removed. People automatically assume that it is the only thing that can keep this Galaxy from falling apart, but this Galaxy is infact already in a very critical state. Things are far worse than the average civilian thinks. The Republic simply doesn't have the funds or the manpower to uphold justice and order in such a vast territory. It was never a viable solution to the problems, instead its holding back others who might be more suited for the task."

The man chuckled, at his own amusement. "Say what you will, but things were in better shape even during the Empire. The Republic's approach is too slow. Its members are self-indulged warmongers who care only for their own. Someone else needs to step up to the plate. Someone capable."

Jovis nodded, finally understanding what it was all about. "The Sons of Destiny?"

"It is fate that has carried us this far," the woman said, her voice alluring and convincing, "we are the sons of destiny. And this is our Dream."

Jovis bought it, not sure he agreed, but he was willing to believe that they believed they were right. "Your soldiers are very impressive."

At that their discussion was interrupted when a faint chime sounded from the table near Kayupa's end. He nodded briefly to Jovis and the woman before operating the controls at his end and the room lit up significantly more as the hologram walls became blank and a single holographic figure appeared at the end of the table. The new hologram took on a life and face of its own, the surface rippling like waves in water, constructing motion and features. The identity was intentionally shrouded.

Standing up, Kayupa clasped his hands behind his back and greeted the hologram with his most confident smile. But Jovis noticed more, something he was surprised he could detect. This General, this Kayupa, was always so cool and in control, but now there was something more. If Jovis had to describe it in a word, he'd have to go with 'humility'.

_There's always a bigger fish_, Jovis thought to himself.

"Eclipos," Kayupa rasped. "It warms my heart that we were able to meet up at this time. You will be happy to know that our mission is undergoing much progress. The final stages of the reshaping are underway. A few more days and we'll be ready to launch our offense." Surprisingly Kayupa looked down at Jovis and motioned for him to stand. "I'd like you to meet Jovis, my friend, the latest addition to our cause. He's provided much support in terms of personnel and his company has made this whole venture much more joyful."

Jovis felt like the man was talking about someone else. Though he felt the communication between him and the General had strengthened considerably in the last week, the way the General mentioned him sounded like an old friend. Jovis suspected the General was laying it on a bit thick, perhaps to assure this new party for his own ends.

"And I have to say - "

"Spare me the bantha dung, General!" the hologram blurted roughly in a distorted voice. The voice was human however, Jovis noted. "Get to the point! I've invested a lot of credits into this. Much is at stake, General, do not assume the numbers on my account mirror my patience. I'm not interested in details. I'm interested in the end product."

Kayupa hid his anger under a mask of inferiority, but only barely. "When you hired me and my army for this task, you were begging for my help. You hired me because you knew I could deliver. In our previous engagements I've never let you down once..."

The hologram cut in. "But that was different, that was tiny insertions against groups and kingdoms in the Unknown Regions. Although great achievements at the time, they are puny by comparison. We're not fighting amateurs anymore. We're fighting the New Republic."

He didn't know why, but the sound of those words sent shivers down Jovis's spine. It occurred to him only then the mammoth size of the project. He looked over at the woman who was strangely enough looking back at him.

_Fighting the New Republic…_

"The Republic outmatches us in every way. As grand as your army has grown over time, the Republic is still the greatest enemy I've ever pitched you against. And as before I expect nothing but complete success. The Republic will not stop at your capture, General. They will continue to dig deeper and eventually they will be led to me and that is unacceptable." The man smiled slyly. "Success is everything. Defeat…is _everything_."

Kayupa's fists tightened behind his back. "I've never lost once. I do not intend to start now."

"I pray you don't, General," the man said, "you know the stakes. You know what is at risk. This has been our lifelong Dream."

Kayupa turned his face aside. "Its our lifelong obsession. For you, as well as for me. We both want what is best for our Galaxy. Everyone here knows the risks." Kayupa looked back at the hologram. "We will prevail."

The hologram seemed unassured. "Make sure you do, General. If you fail, you will find it a better fate inside a Republic prison than face to face with my wrath."

Jovis found it odd but somewhat comforting to see the General out of his element. To know that he too had superiors, that he too knew the gut-wrenching sensation of pretending to be humble before one's master. Jovis had served many people in his days but he'd never liked anyone of them. Maybe he was being unfair but how could he like someone who had to pay others, mercenaries and assassins, to kill someone? And although Jovis cared only for the money, he had gained an ability to sniff out trouble and the weak. Kayupa was full of trouble, but never weak.

The woman across the table was still glaring at him, and he thought he heard her voice in the back of his mind.

Before he knew why, Jovis stood and addressed the hologram. "I may be out of line and in for a world of pain, but it seems to me that this bickering is pointless. You've hired the General, he's hired me. We're all hired to do a job," Jovis pointed his finger at the hologram, "a job you aren't able to do otherwise we wouldn't be here. But this is not a product, and we are not in competition. The job you hired us for isn't completed overnight. We're not exactly throwing a party here, we're taking on the strongest group in the Galaxy. You've hired us for war against the Republic," Jovis stated bluntly, "wars take months, years, maybe even decades."

Kayupa stood next to him, his face blank but fierce. Jovis didn't know if it was anger or maybe admiration for what he'd done. Surprisingly, to Jovis most of all, the man's visage melted and he smiled. "My colleague is right. Direct, but right. I've not failed you before, and after all the years I've served you, Eclipos, I think a little of the patience your kind is infamous for is out of line. You know my strengths, you know my results." Kayupa softened, leaning against the table with a confident smirk on his face. "The Republic will fall. You will have your Galaxy."

The hologram slowly removed its unpleasant gaze from Jovis. "Once this task is completed, a grand reward awaits you, General. Your army will grow into armies, and your name shall be renown among all that live in this Galaxy. Your reward will be endless."

Kayupa seemed unaffected. "Fulfilling my destiny, is reward enough."

"Have you received any reply from the Republic's forces?"

Kayupa stiffened. "No, I haven't. I transmitted my declaration of occupancy, but I've heard no reply whatsoever."

The hologram straightened. "Then allow me to inform you that a vessel carrying Republic special forces recently left Coruscant, headed for Regana."

Kayupa didn't look surprised. "I suspected it would not be long before some kind of retort came our way. My men expected it also and are ready."

The hologram nodded. "Excellent, General. I pray you will be the worst nightmare the Republic could ever imagine, and the shining fulfillment of our Dream."

Kayupa whisked his hand across the controls. "End transmission."

The room darkened instantly until the room's own lights flicked on, the hologram irising out of existence. Appearing weak and faint, Kayupa was leaning with his knuckles on the table, a torn look on his face. Jovis contemplated whether or not he should address the man's sudden fatigue, but realized as he'd always done that if the General wanted anything from him he would ask.

The silence was almost unbearable and Jovis for the first considered that the General might resent him for the comment he'd made during the meeting.

Jovis wished himself light-years away. "W - was I out of line?"

Kayupa shook his head slowly. "No. Its not you."

Nodding reassured, Jovis pointed to the projector. "So that's our better? This Eclipos. The one we're doing this for."

"Not him," Kayupa scowled angrily, but not directed at Jovis. "For the people."

At that the doors opened and Junn, the lieutenant of the troops, strodded into the dining room. She looked around at each of them, stopping at Jovis, clearly surprised to see him there. She wore her normal fatigues, along with the two blasters, strapped to her thighs. She looked back at the others, and Jovis could tell by her face that she noticed something was out of the ordinary.

"Ah, Junn," Kayupa said as he sat back down, the tone of his voice more normal now. "How delightful of you to join us."

She pulled up a chair, frowning at Jovis as she picked out a plate. "I didn't know we were entertaining."

"We're celebrating the completion of Jovis's men's training," Kayupa said.

_Is that what we're doing? _Jovis thought, noticing that Kayupa changed the subject now that Junn was present. Were they hiding things from her too?

Junn smirked, choosing a piece of meat from the platter nearby. "Completion?" she said testily, "that's a bit ambitious of you, Jovis."

Startled at first that she was even talking to him, he managed to conquer the initial surprise. "You don't think they're ready?"

Junn shook her head, as she began eating. "Simulators don't make soldiers. Experience makes soldiers."

"They have experience," Jovis asserted.

"Not the kind we need," she countered.

"You don't approve?" Kayupa asked.

"Oh, I approve," she mocked, lining up an insult, "they'll make great buffers."

Jovis felt a surge of rage and betrayal, but given the recent trust that the General had shown him he thought it unwise. Junn wasn't going to break him that easily. "They'll do their job."

Junn laughed. "I'm sure they will, but it isn't a _job _for the rest of us."

Kayupa looked harshly at his lieutenant. "Junn - "

"_Eulogy_," she insisted. "Names mean nothing on the battlefield."

Jovis didn't get it. "Eulogy?"

"Yes," Junn - or Eulogy as she preferred - said irritably, "Eulogy is my codename. The name the soldiers know me by."

Kayupa grinned. "Yes, she tends to have the last say in a lot of people's lives. All of our inner circle have taken codenames upon themselves, as befitting their involvement within the army. Eulogy here...tends to be the last one out of the warzone."

Junn seemed to pay no attention to her General's words as she feasted. "I'm sure Jovis is aware of the implications, but once the bolts start flying, I wonder who will be the first of his men to hand in a resignation notice. After all, its just a job, right?"

Jovis smiled defiantly. "You got something against mercenaries?"

Junn poured herself a glass of wine. "Making a handy profit does not mandate killing."

"And being a soldier does?"

"Soldiers get paid too, Jovis, but not as handsomely as you. We're paid just enough to survive. We're not in this for the money. We're crusaders, not conquerors." Junn sipped her wine, her face twisted sourly at the taste of it and she put down the glass. "Soldiers don't kill for the money, they kill for their beliefs."

Jovis had just about enough of her self-righteous attitude, but still thought it wouldn't be prudent to make a scene now. It occurred to him that maybe the General was testing him to see what kind of man he was, using Junn as the vector. That was fine with him. He'd play along. "I have beliefs too."

Junn gave him a mock surprised look. "Do tell."

Jovis leaned over the table. "Killing is killing; if you're going to do it, you might as well profit from it.

Junn tilted her head. "But money has killed more people in history than war ever has. What do you think about that?" she teased.

Jovis shrugged. "I have no problem with what I do."

The General chuckled.

Junn smirked. "Good for you. I'll make sure to write that on your tombstone."

"_Enough_," the woman next to Junn said tensely, obviously fed up with their continuing verbal combat. The woman tossed Kayupa an irritated and tired glance, and the General merely nodded to her. It seemed they understood each other, though Jovis swore he thought Kayupa was more amused with the infighting that she was.

The General leaned forward. "How are the mercenaries doing?"

Junn smiled wickedly, but she looked at Jovis when she answered. "Just fine." Her voice was more professional now, her military tone. "I have no doubts they will be ready for when we need them."

Jovis smiled. She _had _been teasing him, she knew the mercenaries were up to this, undoubtedly as surprised by their progress as he was. She'd just been letting him on. Jovis looked over at the General and found the man smiling back at him, that devious look in his eyes.

Jovis couldn't help smile too. "You should play sabacc."

Kayupa laughed with his full heart. "I've never bluffed anyone without actually being part of the bluff."

"Hope you got your answers."

"I did," the man looked over at his lieutenant. "What about the troops?"

Putting the last piece of meat in her mouth, Junn smiled proudly. "Same as always."

"And…_them_?"

Jovis couldn't help wonder who he meant, but with the good feeling of companionship he now felt, he decided he didn't want to know. It could wait.

"Phase Two is completed," Junn answered carefully, "and Phase Three is already underway."

"Excellent," the man poured himself a glass of wine and held it up for a toast. "Then its time for a formal introduction." He held out his glass to Jovis. "Congratulations, Jovis. You can consider yourself a Son."

Although he suspected he should be smiling, Jovis had never experienced a terror as strong as the one slithering up his spine at that moment.

Kayupa lifted his glass. "To a prosperous and enriching partnership."

Jovis held up his partly empty glass, he'd been saving it, he wasn't used to drinking wine but this stuff was actually very good. Junn and the woman, the only person he had yet to figure out, raised their glasses too. "To a prosperous and enriching partnership," Jovis repeated.

The woman gazed upon the General affectionately. "To a prosperous and enriching partnership."

Junn picked up her glass, her eyes never leaving Jovis. "To the Sons of Destiny," she said calmly.

The four crystal glasses chimed on a bright note as they touched.

* * *

Feeling the cool droplets rushing over his chest and belly and the rest of his body, was a relief from the cell. The shower did wonders for his weary mind, it was relaxing to just cop out and enjoy something as simplistic as a shower.

As he came out dripping, the silver covered 2L handed him a towel. Rishi folded the towel around his waist; after Gravth had showed up in the bar all hell had broken loose. He'd lost Drennen, the man had slipped away in the fury, but the Twi'lek had bought it trying to fend off the mob. Rishi had kept his own for a few minutes but then the local police had showed up and a even larger fight had followed.

In the end most of the bar occupants had been arrested or killed, while the police had lost two of their men. Rishi had laid down his weapon and given himself to the police and they'd taken him in for questioning.

Rishi hadn't done anything illegal by their reasoning, the ones he'd attacked he'd done in self-defense. But he had spent the night in the Republic Detention Center, first undergoing a two-hour interrogation to explain his actions and what had happened. He didn't mind it too much, it beat dying in the bar after all.

Earlier today a message had reached the RDC from Master Skywalker, a relay from wherever he was, that explained that Rishi was part of an important investigation involving the terrorists threatening the Republic, and that it was crucial that he be released as fast as possible.

2L had then showed up and brought Rishi back to Master Skar's apartment for a shower and food before he headed back into his investigation.

"What now, sir?" 2L asked, "off to the nearest cantina and pick up a pair of women? That's what male humans do after they've spent the night in prison, correct?"

Rishi shook the towel through his short blond hair. "I was there for twenty-two hours, 2L. I haven't completely lost it."

The droid copied a smirk. "After hearing about your actions in the lower levels that got you into that cell, I would beg to differ." The droid's tone and voice changed into the more compassionate voice of a human. "What happened down there?"

"I was trying to find some information to help out Master Luke or Master Skar."

"Did you find any?"

Rishi was about to say no. He'd imagined Drennen to hold all the answers but the man was gone now. If not already killed, he would certainly not show up anytime soon. But he had been given another name; Crip. A man untouched by the events in the Staggering Tusken who wouldn't have gone into hiding. That was Rishi's next lead.

"I have one more option, someone called Crip. He was chums with Wedder Dhohji, the informant that died on the bridge."

Though 2L was just a droid he was also Master Skar's closest companion, even more so since the schism between Rishi and his Master. 2L knew everything that Master Skar knew. "The man who delivered the datacard?"

"Yeah. He was the one who knew Wedder best. He may know where that datacard came from and that might lead us to the terrorists."

"Would it not be more prudent to ask for the aid of the Republic?"

Rishi sighed. "I don't trust them, even less than they trust me." Rishi looked into the nearest mirror and saw the lines under his eyes, the tired and drained face he saw didn't look anything like him. "It makes you wonder sometimes. I'm sick of dealing with politicians, warmongers, officials," Rishi cursed, "and bureaucrats! Politicians are too wrapped up in their own agenda."

2L walked back into the living room. The room was bright white and had a bunk, a cabinet and a small kitchen. Other than that there was nothing, no small artifacts of emotional value. The apartment had no heart, it was empty, cold and sterile. Rishi figured this was how Master Skar would have preferred to live, he had never concerned himself much with comfort. 2L began preparing a meal in the kitchen and Rishi tried to make the lines under his eyes, and the tired look, go away by rubbing his palms over his face.

The droid shouted from the kitchen, "For someone who never bothers to learn about politics you sure have a quick way of labeling them. Wouldn't it be more prudent to have some notion of the world before you started hating it?"

Rishi splashed water on his face. "I don't hate the world. Just the lies people create in it, the distrust, the cavity that keeps us from being a civilization." He had no hate for anyone, just intolerance. "My role in the underground, people call me a renegade and a rogue, but I'm pretty much doing what they should be doing. All I do is help out the ones who can't defend themselves. The Republic are the ones starting wars."

When 2L appeared in the doorway again, Rishi could hear a pot steaming in the kitchen. 2L looked as concerned as a droid was able to. Something about the faint light in his eyes made him look almost sympathetic.

"I've known you all your life, Master Rishi, you've been like this for as long as I've known you, but I also know that your view of the Republic does not live up to its actual merits. The Republic is trying to establish a community where everyone is free to talk, a place where people can discuss things peacefully without resorting to fighting. That sort of thing does not happen in thirteen years. The Republic is still suffering from the wounds the Empire inflicted upon this Galaxy. If anything, I believe there are those in the Senate who applaud your attitude. And I doubt the people who live in the underground oppose your protection. The Republic has many things to deal with - "

"To look out for their own?" Rishi finished the sentence, though he suspected it wasn't what the droid would have said. "But what kind of a government is that?"

2L was ready for that one. "Its the government we live in, but it has not reached its final shape. Its still in the R&D stage. And there are honest people in the Senate who take kindly to your actions. Mon Mothma and the Chief of State, Leia Organa Solo."

Rishi knew Leia, Luke's sister, had met her a few times and her warm words had often kindled any doubt he might have had about the Republic. If anyone was ever going to put the Republic on its right course, Leia was the one.

Rishi looked down at his hands clutching the sink under the mirror. Their red, symbolic tattoos reminding him of his heritage and his commitment, but like Master Skar he had taken his own path, finding his own way to better the situation, and yet they still disagreed. Master Skar called his deeds in the underground pointless. But to him they made more sense than anything he heard the Senate decided upon.

Rishi looked up at 2L, and then took a second glance at the heartless apartment. Even the cell he'd spent the night in seemed more homely than this place. At least there you could tell someone was living in it. Rishi walked over to the small dresser next to the unmade bunk and chose a random shelf.

Inside it, wrapped in a piece of cloth, laid a lightsaber. It took Rishi all of five seconds to recognize it as Master Skar's old one. Rishi allowed himself a curt smile, the lightsaber looked almost as poorly created as Rishi's first, rushed and clumsily built. It was the lightsaber Master Skar had build for himself after losing his uncle's thirteen years ago, after he'd nearly lost his very sanity. To carry a lightsaber was an example of incredible skill and confidence, dexterity and attunement to the Force. But this…it looked more than anything like it belonged in the apartment.

Rishi frowned as he placed the lightsaber back in its shelf and took another look at the cold and soulless apartment. "He doesn't like to decorate, huh?" Rishi joked.

2L gave him a questioning face. "What are you referring to?"

"This place."

2L looked around in the apartment, apparently noticing for the first time that the apartment didn't look like anyone lived in it. Only the unmade bed suggested someone had been here recently. "Master Skar...is a minimalist. He thinks that memories should be kept in the heart, not the bed-stand."

Rishi laughed. That was his Master alright. "He's always been like that. He refused to go back to Kryuu to get the Holocron, even though it could have helped out the Jedi Order?"

2L defended the action. "Master Skar has painful memories of that place."

Rishi didn't doubt that from what he'd heard about Master Skar's past. But the man should have been strong enough to go through bad memories if he knew it would help out the future generations. It seemed a bit selfish, but then again Master Skar had always been a shut-in. Which made Rishi wonder how he'd ever become the man's apprentice. Offhand Master Skar didn't seem to be the kind of person who would undertake such a task, having to spend so much time and effort on someone other than himself.

Rishi leaned against the doorframe. "It makes you wonder what I'm doing here. Why would someone like him take an apprentice?"

2L jolted. "What do you mean?"

Unlike Master Skar, Rishi was able to smile at the bad memories in his life. "When I was a child on Draori we believed the ones who were killing our people were gods, and that they were angry at us for some reason. We did everything we could to please them, but of course they didn't care because they weren't really gods, so they continued to slaughter us." Rishi rubbed his chin. "Master Skar saved us from them and gave us a new home. But he didn't _have to _take me as an apprentice. There was no reason for him to take me as an apprentice, other than guilt or maybe pity."

2L answered quickly. "Master Skar always told me he chose you among the others because you were the strongest of them, you were the only one who seemed to understand the gift."

Rishi frowned. "He could have trained the others to be even stronger than me if he'd taken the time. The sheer idea of him taking an apprentice, being the kind of man he was, seems out of place."

The droid looked away, contemplating whether or not to answer Rishi, wondering if the words were not meant to be said, or if Master Skar had ever intended to tell them to the apprentice. In the end the droid nodded to itself and then looked back at Rishi. "Master Skar chose you…because he recognized himself in you."

Rishi found that hard to believe. "What? He was a great warrior, how was I even close to being like him?

The droid shivered a second, something Rishi had never seen in a droid before. "Because of your parents."

"What?" Rishi had lost his mother to one of the Kjoil Epigones, and later his father in the revolt during the evacuation of the refugees. But Master Skar had never known his parents. "What did my parents have to do with it?"

The droid tilted his head. "Nothing directly, but Master Skar saw an old pain in you that reminded him of his own. He believed that maybe through helping you get over yours he could find an outlet for his own."

Rishi hugged himself, and it wasn't just the lack of clothes that made him feel cold. "Shinran, the one he lost. He mourned her for a long time." A very long time, Rishi almost added. Even though almost a decade and a half had passed he could still sense hints of that pain in his Master, hints he hadn't been trained enough to sense when he'd first met him, but could now. Master Skar had seemed so powerful at first, and in ways Rishi was still the small boy who thought of the man as the god he'd believed him to be back then.

He remembered vaguely Skar being involved with another woman in their camp, one named Cartra. But she'd died in the battle that followed in the evacuation of the refugees. Once the battle was over Skar had gone back out into the place where the battle had been heaviest and found her body. He'd buried her there and returned to the evacuation ship with nothing but a stern look on his face and they'd left the planet behind. Skar had never spoken of Cartra since then, and Rishi had never asked. Coming to Coruscant had been so overwhelming to them both that Rishi figured Master Skar must've forgotten her too. But knowing the Master as he did now, he believed Cartra would always hold a place in his heart.

Just not one as big as Shinran.

2L remained in his pose, a heaviness in his shoulder that made him look almost human. "Master Skar still mourns her. Before Master Skar arrived on Draori he had spent two years contemplating how to get over his loss. That is why he has become so edgy. He believed that confronting the pain would make him stronger and that he would eventually be able to free himself of it. But instead he lost himself in pain. It wasn't until he chose to go to Draori that he realized that he'd achieved nothing in those two years. He felt he had to go someplace new, someplace alive. Somewhere where he could feel life again. Someplace natural. Someplace alive in the Force. A place that civilization and technology hadn't devastated yet."

Rishi nodded. "Kryuu was that kind of place."

"Yes, but it had painful memories. It was Draori that saved him. The fight he took up there gave him back his understanding of his role as a Jedi. And it was through you that he wanted to make amends to the Force for those two years he felt he'd wasted. You were in a sense," 2L said carefully, "his redemption."

Rishi's heart turned to slag. Why had Master Skar never told him any of this? It seemed like someone you would want someone to know. Rishi blamed himself slightly. There hadn't really been an outlet in the last few years for his Master to come forth and tell Rishi. But it was the thing Rishi had missed, it was that connection to his Master that had kept them apart.

Master Skar was protesting against his actions in the underground because he didn't want Rishi to do the same thing he did; lose himself in a place he would later regret. And he supposed that explained why Master Skar had retreated back into a state of longing and depression, having lost the redemption he'd supposedly found in Rishi.

The kitchen clock chimed and the droid waddled off. Rishi felt a feeling of completion he'd never had before. At last it seemed there would be a light over the horizon. Rishi looked down and saw that he was still only wearing a towel. Rishi looked back up to see 2L holding a plate with dinner on it. The droid held it out to him.

Rishi shook his head and opened the cabinet, searching for clothes he could borrow. "I haven't got time for dinner." Rishi found a Jedi uniform, black and blue, much like his own, only this one had never seen use. Dressing himself, Rishi fastened the belt and clipped the lightsaber to his side. "I have to find that man." Rishi pulled on his boots, smooth and tight. "Its time I got back to my duty. Master Skar will still need my help." The Force burned brightly inside him, here was a task he could fulfill, and a step towards helping his Master. "If I can help him someway, I have to."

2L nodded, plate still in hands. "I understand. But do be careful this time, it wouldn't look well if Master Luke had to call in another favor." The droid made an electronic chuckle. "Remember that a Jedi in a prison-cell isn't a long term solution, as you are very inventive sorts. They'll most likely execute you on the spot this time." The droid looked over Rishi, noting his dark tunic and pants, Master Skar's old Jedi uniform. Both Rishi and Skar seemed to have a tendency for dark clothes. "That way you'll get your preferences, I hear they bury the dead in black."

Rishi had to contain himself from laughing. "They'll bury you right next to me, as an accomplice. They won't even shut you down. Eternity, in a black hole in the ground, with my smelly corpse right next to you."

The droid's photoreceptors lit up. "Sir, do be careful!"

Rishi smiled. "I will. I only hope this Crip can help me."

The droid nodded and looked insulted, as much as it was capable off. "I suppose the night has left you a little eager for human communication, hasn't it?"

Rishi thought the droid was hurt at first, but as he found himself in the adverse situation of having to explain to a droid that he honestly did like its company, he thought better of it. "Its my duty."

"Are you sure you'll be able to find this Crip?"

Rishi shot a quick smile at 2L. "I have the Force."

2L tilted its head in an ironic gesture. "Aren't we sure of ourselves all of a sudden?"

The Kjoil youth felt great pride swelling inside him, along with the constant warm caress of the Force. "Yeah."

"Sir, aren't you overlooking one thing?"

"What?"

Unexpectedly, the droid lifted the plate above its head and then smashed it down onto the floor, shattering the plate. Food flew in every direction and the droid placed its fists at the hips. "I made dinner!"

Althought stunned at first, Rishi couldn't help but laugh.

"Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Did Master Skar put you up to this?" Rishi touched the panel near the door and the door swooshed open. "I thought you had a male programming. Don't get all … _housewife _on me."

The droid was enraged. "Housewife! Is that all I am to you!"

Grinning, Rishi disappeared out the doorway but could still hear the droid yelling out in the corridor.

"That's the last time I cook for you!"

* * *

As always opening his mind to the Force was a demanding experience. Millions of impressions, images and feelings flooded to him from all corners of the living world. He was a black hole that sucked in everything, choosing which sensations that were useless and which he needed. Which had _knowledge _he needed. He suspected this excersize would give him nothing, it rarely had and he wasn't that fond of exposing himself to the world on such a level.

Most of the time he was secluded, alone, and connecting with the Force in such a way made him feel inadequate. To know that there were so many parts of the world where his abilities and powers were needed. It was painful to know that no matter how feverishly he worked, no matter how much of himself he gave, he could never help everyone. It was the burden every Jedi carried.

Slowly but surely he could feel the Force taking control of this link, pulling him under, turning it into an audience with a spirit world rather than a link with the universe itself. He'd tried this sort of link with the Force before. A link which on the outside left his body dead, while his mind was very much alive. Skar had no perception of whether time still moved on the outside, in here it stood still.

Skar surrendered himself to the events and only listened to the fleeing souls crying in the backdrop. Only hoping to hear the advice that the Force had called him out of life for. Darkness clouded all around him and he began to feel an unnatural warmth. Invisible blankets wrapped him tight and he soon felt himself falling towards blackness. After a few seconds of confused tumbling Skar felt himself hit the ground, only to feel it soften beneath him, almost like foam.

_You don't belong here._

He quickly raised himself on his feet, pulling out his lightsaber as he rose in the darkness. He turned around himself, but found no source of light. Ravenous darkness flowed around him like a fog. The veil pulled over his eyes kept him from seeing the identity of the voice.

_This place is beyond you. _

The voice spoke again in a familiar way, but Skar was distracted as he began to see a light in the distance. Yet it was so faint he wasn't sure he wasn't just seeing spots before his eyes.

_You struggle so hard to keep your anonymity and yet you throw yourself at the first chance to find something which people will remember you for._

The light grew, into a tiny needle point which ribbed open a fine cut in the darkness, showering him in a glare so bright to his delicate eyes he had to block it with his hand. Light figures appeared around him, like statues, holding court over his soul in between existence and death. Skar saw no faces on either of them, saw only the hovering spirits. Skar breathed, but knew he wasn't breathing air, he was breathing the Force. Skar looked around, not sure that the spirits were that of the Force he was used to. These felt oddly different, almost malevolent.

_And you're corrupting your apprentice as well; forcing your own insecurity about your role onto him._

Gray phantoms of past friends began to wander across the darkness before him, laughing, singing, mocking him for who he was. Mocking his choices, mocking his losses, mocking his feelings. His mother laughed, his father laughed, Kayupa laughed. Visions came to Skar with flashes, some clear, some obscure and unnatural.

In some visions he saw forests burning with flames, people flying off into the sky thinking they were saved, a young boy by his side asking for his guidance, a vision of Kayupa sitting next to him giving advice, a feeling of pain, a feeling of loss. Images of a small clone baby growing inside a man-size glass cylinder.

Pictures of a mother and father holding hands, with their son by their side. Pictures of a young Jedi jumping into action to protect his Master. He tossed, trying to mentally make it all fit inside his head, but the tornado of revelations whirled in his head, leaving him defenseless against them. The pain was building inside his head, but he managed to subside it with a quick technique. The mocking words lingered though, tormenting him.

_You may think you can change the future with your unique ability to dodge fate, but not this time. This time it will be your undoing._

"Who are you?" he uttered, his hands on the sides of his head, trying to press the pain out through his eyes.

_Things exist in life that you can't see, hear or even touch. There is more than the physical form of life. Some think life is meaningless, yet they still strive to stay alive, but to what end? If life is meaningless, why live at all?_

It was Kayupa's voice talking, soon enough filtered out again in the chaos of phrases uttered too low to understand but deafening in multitude. The pain continued to digress, building itself with each second, his head filling with random phrases, some of them which he recognized and others that were spoken in foreign languages, alien tongue he didn't understand.

Skar performed a Jedi mind control trick on himself, trying to block out exterior sounds and impressions, but it proved worthless here. The mind trick worked against outside distractions, but the voices thundering in his head were not outside; they were inside his soul.

_Anyone who thinks life has no meaning, isn't worth the gift of life at all. They just need to open their eyes to all the life around them. Look at this place, you're sitting in a room with beings from all over the Galaxy. In different shapes and forms, but all of them need to have the same faith in existence. Everyone has an idea of what the purpose in life is. _

_And they operate from that idea to meet that goal._

Skar's torment built up inside of him until he couldn't take anymore. "What do you want from me!"

Silence. So abrupt and suddenly that Skar feared he'd gone deaf. He snapped his eyes open and found himself on all fours, staring down into a surface that waved like water but reflected his image like a mirror. It even seemed to glow on its own, since it was the only light there. Out to his left and right, darkness hid the borders of this unnatural place with perfect efficiency.

Skar pulled himself up, looked around for a portal or anything that would lead him away. He searched his own mind and defenses to see if leaving the place required any mental key. Nothing seemed to make it stop.

The waving glow around his feet extended in a circle to take up a another two meters in size. There, in front of him at the edge of the circle, stood the light figure he'd seen before. The being's glowing presence began to shift within itself as it took on limbs, what started as feet became long legs that eventually touched the waving floor, the fists extended into arms that collected themselves at the back of the figure. The head rose slowly up from its chest to look at him, the face itself a beacon of light with very small details, but Skar could see a set of eyes looking back at him.

"Why are you here?"

Skar realized it was Kayupa standing there in spirit, smiling at him. But it was the young image of Kayupa, not the older man he'd seen in recent holos. Maybe the Force was showing him Kayupa the way he remembered him best, maybe Kayupa had chosen this image personally.

"Kayupa? So you're...alive?"

Kayupa shook his head, leaving trails of vapor with the motion, as if he was slowly withering. "What are you doing here?"

Skar held out his hands. "I don't really know. I'm on my way to meet you."

"I know," Kayupa said. "But that's not why you're _here_."

Skar didn't know what to say. "I came looking...for memories of you. Trying to understand what's going on."

"Memories? I didn't leave enough of an impression?" he chuckled. "What does a guy have to do?"

Skar didn't think it was funny. "I hold on to the memory of you, the good parts of you. But it's keeping me back."

"You're just lonely, Skar. You're looking for a future in the past. Do you think your life will improve in any way if you remember me better? Can it help you in some way, help you do any of the things you've neglected for so long?"

"I..." Skar's heart felt like a ball of steel, growing inside his chest until it could burst through his bones. "I don't know, alright?" he snapped. "I don't know what I was thinking. You're right. I _am _lonely."

"You haven't exactly let anyone in. You've been looking for the companionship of people that are already dead," he looked over at Skar, "and I'm not just talking about me."

Skar let out all his frustration in a deep breath. "I know. I was hoping...she might still exist on some level. Her body joined with the Force, although she wasn't trained in the Force. I don't understand it. And if you're here, then she must be here too."

Kayupa nodded.

Skar's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something from me."

Kayupa chuckled lightly. "If it helps, if it makes your progress any easier, you will meet Shinran again...soon."

Skar was afraid to smile, or to actually trust Kayupa again. "How do you know?"

Kayupa smiled that devilish grin that had always taunted Skar, that smirk that never really let Skar know just what was going on behind Kayupa's eyes. "She told me."

Skar frowned. "What's going to happen? You want me to come to Regana, but why?"

Kayupa was still smiling fiendishly. "Its a surprise."

"What? What is this place? These spirits - "

Kayupa turned around fast, as if he sensed something. "Someone is coming," Kayupa said and then vanished like into a mist of tiny stars. Faster than eyes could process it seemed. Skar looked around him, confused as to whether it really had been Kayupa's ghost.

"Kayupa!"

But no answer came.

But a new voice, a kinder voice, emerged in the thick of darkness.

_This is a crossing. _

Skar turned to see the long-dead Master Bo-Hi Dzog standing outside the circle of light, dimly illuminated by the glow coming from the floor. The Master looked himself, the brown and black cloak, the infamous Kel Dor's face hadn't gotten any prettier in the afterlife, but yet the eyes exuded a calming kindness.

"Master!" Skar said, filled with the joy of reunion.

Master Bo-Hi nodded. _Its a special medium in the Force reserved for the Kjoil, called the libberatium. Each Kjoil has a special link to the Force, like a frequency, a special 'code' that allows it access to particular areas of the Force. _

Skar was shocked to realize this wasn't the first time he'd been here. "I - this was what I felt…back on Soliton, when I was falling off the cliff with Kayupa. This place, it was there when I woke up." Skar gasped. "But it was filled with Sith ghosts back then."

The Jedi Master confirmed it. _This was it, yes. But the ghosts you sensed, the ones that called out to you, they are not a part of this place. Those ghosts came from within you. It wasn't this place that was evil. It was what was inside you. Your own Darkness._ Master Bo-Hi hugged himself. _The libberatium is a place you can visit to seek the guidance of previous Kjoil who have passed on to the Force, as well as the souls and spirits of those you've encountered in your life. Since its continuation is based on the energy that resides inside the Force, it is only Force-sensitive people like me and, for that matter Kayupa, who reside here._

Skar found that to be odd. "Kayupa both has...and _is _a spirit?"

The Jedi Master's response had hints of despair. _Yes, and a vibrant one at that. I haven't add much opportunity to confer with him. Somehow his presence keeps fading and reappearing. Almost as if his destiny is as of yet not determined. He hangs somewhere on the balance between life and death. Not truly alive, yet far from dead._

Skar listed to every word, trying to find some answer to why he'd been called here. "Why are you telling me this?"

The Jedi Master lifted his head. _I've come to pass on information to you. Since I never told you about the libberatium, you didn't know it existed and I was called forth to bring you information that is very vital to you in the future._

"Called forth?" Skar asked.

_By the Force._

Skar still felt small pieces of agony hanging around in his mind, like a hangover. "Why are there so many…memories?"

_It is a reminder from those whom you've left behind. You should take note of each one, each of them holds a message. _

There was a pattern in the memories, Skar gathered. "Its all Kayupa's words. Is he really alive?"

This time his Master's words were very clear. _Yes._

Skar nodded, already knowing it to be true. "Master, there's something I don't understand. The texts read that a Jedi can become a spirit if he accepts and is ready when he dies. If Kayupa had accepted death when it came, how is it that he, a clone, could become a spirit?"

_Who knows? The Force works in mysterious ways._

Skar didn't buy it. "I don't understand."

Master Bo-Hi elaborated firmly. _Kayupa was cloned from Skind Kjoil using Spaarti cloning cylinders. It is a faster way of cloning than any other. The Spaarti cylinders have one key side effect. Clones produced through this method cause a disturbance in the Force, because of the identical patterns resonating in the Force. It creates an affliction in the clone called clone madness. It is a side affect that can be easily countered, and the Emperor did take precautions against Kayupa's growth. _

_But what we both saw, in those last days of Kayupa's life, his sudden rage and his near insanity, was a result of that. Skind's spirit betrayed him, hoping Kayupa would find the courage to take his own life. I went to Soliton only to try and save him, but…as you saw the effects were too advanced. There was nothing either of us could have done._

"But that doesn't explain how he's been able to retain his identity."

The Jedi Master sighed heavily. _Kayupa's clone heritage didn't seem to inflict any grudge against him, from the Force's viewpoint. Maybe the man had achieved so much for himself that he found a small part of him that really was his one and not just a clone of Skind Kjoil. The Emperor sustained his youth through cloning. The effects the Dark Side had on him wore his body down and he moved from one clone body to another, his spirit in the Force hosting numerous subjects so he could live forever. Its possible Kayupa's spirit moved on to another clone._

Skar held out his arms in confusion. "Then what is he looking for? Last time he wanted to die - " Skar stopped talking for a second, as he felt a stab of guilt. "And he got his wish."

The Jedi Master's gaze was not the least bit comforting. _His identity was forked. One side of him was the good, the friend, and my apprentice. And the other side was his Sith identity, brought on by the clone madness. If the Sith part of him has inhabited another clone it is possible it has grown much stronger, but also more unstable. There might not be much left of the old Kayupa in him - _

"So I'll have to fight him again?" Skar cut him off.

Master or not, Bo-Hi seemed lost for a better answer. _If that is his wish, maybe._

Skar took a deep breath. "If he's planning to destroy Coruscant, just like he did thirteen years ago, there might be a shred of the old Kayupa left in him. I may save him yet."

Master Bo-Hi looked up at him, hesitation hiding in his eyes. The Master took a deep breath and sighed, the sound of it carrying much pain. _Skar, it is important you keep your focus on the future. However you may have felt towards Kayupa in the past, or still do, you have to realize that he cannot be allowed to live._

Skar looked at the Master, feeling slightly more hurt now. It hadn't really been his wish to turn Kayupa back to the good side, he only knew that if he was masterminding this attack on Coruscant it was his mission to stop it. Kayupa had been a friend, but Skar didn't know yet if he still was. He had hoped that maybe there had been a chance for him to have his friend back. He hadn't been able to say that to Rishi, but it was true.

Even though thirteen years had passed since then, a day didn't go by where Skar didn't think of Kayupa, not a time when he'd look in the mirror and not see a shred of his old friend in himself. Clone or not, Kayupa had been his companion. A man he'd once trusted enough to rebel against Master Bo-Hi even.

Like Shinran, Kayupa was a memory Skar longed to relive. "Why - Why can't I save him?"

_A clone creates a disturbance in the Force. As long as Kayupa exists, the Force can never be in balance. For the New Jedi Order to have as much success as they're going to need, Kayupa must be destroyed. He cannot live, Skar, and it is your duty to face him again._

Skar's heart felt like a lightsaber had burned through it. "I - I don't know if I can!"

_But you must. There can be no other way._

Skar didn't know what to say. He couldn't promise such a thing. It all depended on Kayupa. But what if the man could be saved? Was he wrong in wanting his friend back?

"But he was my friend. How can I kill my own friend!"

_He was your friend before, Skar, and we both know what happened then. You can't trust him._

Skar sighed, almost pleading his Master to find another way. "But that was different. He was different. I didn't want to kill him then either. He only used me to try and break free, but I didn't kill him. I wanted to help him."

_And did he want to be helped?_

Skar clenched his fists, eager for someone or something to punch, to free him of the anger and frustration he felt. "No. He only wanted to die." Skar remembered how Kayupa had still drawn his sword at him, even after Skar had spared his life. And Shinran gave her life to do what Skar could not.

"He betrayed me."

The Jedi Master sighed with heavy guilt. _I was the one that betrayed you. I could have avoided the tragedy. I thought I could keep it a secret from him. But before he left for Nar Shaddaa to take back the Jentarana, he told me he'd been to visit Skind's spirit. If you could have seen the look on his face - the look of a man who's found out that everything he was, was a lie._

Skar nodded, sadly. "We've both left tragedies in our wake, and we both have to live with it."

Master Bo-Hi's face lightened, and a careful smile came across his lips. _And here I thought I was the one who would teach you._ He chuckled slightly, and then his face clouded as if he remembered something else. _You know….Shinran is alive in the Force too._

That name made Skar feel warm inside, yet the heat felt misplaced. He nodded slowly. "I've met her once on Nar Shaddaa." The statement itself made him think of something else. "I thought only Jedi could become one with the Force?"

_Yes, that is…actually not far from what I was brought here to tell you. Only Jedi can join with the Force_. Master Bo-Hi hugged himself, as if expecting a cold. _And their offspring._

At first Skar disregarded the comment, and didn't count it as an answer. There didn't seem to be an answer in the words. Skar was about to push on for elaboration, then it slowly dawned on him. And the pain that came creeping up his spine with the knowledge felt like a million razors over his soul. Like an enormous thunderstorm rampaging through his mind. Like a hand had just dug its nails into his heart and ripped it from his chest.

"No - "

_You've got a family waiting for you on the other side, Skar. Shinran was pregnant._

Skar stared in disbelief at the cloaked Master and started to pull back from the revelation. Skar refused to believe what he'd heard. Not knowing of a better thing to do, Skar immediately threw himself at the Force, reaching for comfort. The knowledge of Shinran's carriage was compounding too quickly for him to catch up. His thoughts raced endlessly, they found no root, they had no compass, they just circled around in his mind for what seemed forever.

In the end Skar raced across the darkness, grabbed onto Master Bo-Hi's shoulders, clutching his fists on the fabric, pulled Master Bo-Hi to his face. "No, that's not true! You…LIAR!" he shouted, his words filled with hatred.

Master Bo-Hi's expression offered no compassion, and no other answer. _I wish it were so._

Skar couldn't believe it, he kept his grip on the Master, not for hateful reasons, but only to steady himself as he felt his knees buckle beneath him, the floor seemed more than ever to be made from water.

Skar fell to his knees, supporting himself against his Master.

Master Bo-Hi's hand touched the top of his apprentice's head. _The union between you and her was sanctified by the Force and a child was given to you, a boy. You would have been a father if Shinran hadn't given herself to saved you from turning to the Sith. That was to be your reward. But instead Shinran cheated fate and gave herself. _Master Bo-Hi's shape began to diminish, slowly evaporating into nothing. _You are a father, Skar._

Skar felt Master Bo-Hi slipping away in his hands. Skar fell to the floor, desperation and abomination following his every move. Of all the things he'd thought that would ever come back to hurt him from the past, this had been the last thing he'd suspected. To think that the one time that he and Shinran had had the blessing to make love in their all too brief time together, had given them a child.

"Where is Shinran? I have to talk to her!" Skar remembered all the nights he'd prayed for that very same thing, and remembered the stale cold response he got from the Force. "I have to see her!"

Master Bo-Hi's face was all that remained of the ghost. And it was all there was needed to answer Skar's request. Master Bo-Hi's eyes closed and his face shook slowly from side to side. _That cannot be._

Skar didn't bother to fight back to tears. "I need to talk to her!" his cry echoed against the invisible walls of his torment. "Shinran!"

Master Bo-Hi said nothing.

Skar rose himself and stepped forward, broken and shattered on the inside. "You - you said you had information about the future?"

Master Bo-Hi was nothing more than a glimmering fragment of light. _I've already given it to you. _

And then he was gone.

Horrorstricken and compounded in emotional pain the Jedi Master left his pupil behind to live with the knowledge. Skar looked around, hoping somewhere in the darkness Shinran's face would be looking back at him.

But it didn't.

Skar coiled his hand into a fist and screamed with all the force he could to try and make the pain go away, but all it did was leave an echo of his pain jumping out from the darkness. A light hum began ringing in his ears and the ground shook as a quake riveted through it. And as the darkness exploded in a brilliant light, returning Skar to his own time, Skar wondered how the information he'd obtained had anything to do with the future. How could knowing Shinran was pregnant at the time of her death help him in the future?

* * *

The alley near the hangars where Crip was supposed to operate from was vacant. Rishi damned his luck but decided to stay put for a moment, waiting to see if the man would return. Things could not have gone more worse for his mission, Rishi thought. The incident in the bar where he'd ended up wounding and killing people, that could have been avoided. He'd been too brash, too quick to jump to a solution, not knowing if it was the right one, only knowing it would save time. What cut him deepest was the fact that he'd lost Drennen after the incident. Those men had died in vain, and it was on his conscience. He'd always thought he had a good bead on himself and his emotions, but the bar escapade proved him wrong.

Rishi slid down the wall in the alley and stared at the opposite wall, mentally playing through the events to search for other options. He didn't like second-guessing himself, but given the magnitude of the things he'd done he thought he owed it to the dead. He would have to acknowledge whether or not he had done the proper thing, in order to give their souls some rest.

That was all he could do.

Rishi bowed his head down between his knees, and sniffed at the fabric of his Master's clothes. He couldn't scent anything familiar, probably because Master Skar objected to wearing traditional Jedi garments. Rishi shared some of the notion, but he'd come to realize that wearing a Jedi cloak was a good deterrent. It was useful in the underground, where everyone was a potential enemy. The cloak changed their mids.

Footsteps coming his way down the alley pulled him away from such thoughts, and he was quick to hide his presence using the Force. A man came around the corner, an old man wearing dusty clothing and a chain around his neck. His shoulder-length gray hair and wild beard made him look like someone how'd been trapped on a deserted island for too long.

The man leaned against the opposite wall, checking his chrono, looking down both of the alleyways. Rishi might've catalogued it as nervousness, but on closer inspection he decided it was fear. Rishi got up, accidentally knocking a bottle over on the pavement, catching the attention of the man.

"Who-who's there?"

Rishi removed the cloak of the Force and held up both his hands. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."

The man pressed himself up against the wall, still eyeing Rishi with his beady eyes, his lips trembling with fear. "You…you're Jedi?"

Drawing a quick annoyance, Rishi sighed lightly. "Somewhat." He couldn't wait for the day when the name Kjoil would be seen next to Jedi. He was sick of being labeled as Jedi. That wasn't what he was. Rishi smirked mentally; he was better than those wannabes. "Are you Crip?"

The man nodded hesitantly. "You know me?"

"I'm investigating the death of one of your friends. Wedder Dhohji. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something."

Crip was still shaken, but managed a small frown. "Wedder is dead."

"I think you know more." Rishi read the man's thoughts, filed through the emotions of panic that laid over each of them, trying to find out why the man was so on edge. "Who are you running from?"

Crip overcame his fear of Rishi and walked over to stand next to him, concealing himself in the darkness of the alley. "Mercenaries!"

Rishi stepped over so he could cover the man from any threats down the alley, hiding him behind his form. "Don't you mean hunters?"

Crip shook his head. "That's only if they want you alive. Mercenaries only need bring back a limb, or a head. Sometimes even a drop of blood. Someone's after me. Assassins they are!"

"Why?"

Crip ran a hand over his filthy face, smudging the dirt there even more. "It started with Wedder, and now me. Someone's trying to take us off the street. I don't know who!"

This was interesting, Rishi thought. Could it have been the terrorists covering their tracks? "Because you know something."

"I don't know anything!" the man blabbed.

"Maybe they're after you for the same reason I am. Because you knew Wedder."

The man made a throaty laughter, very amused, yet his eyes still remained beady and jumping from place to place, looking everywhere for someone to leap out of the darkness and kill him. He was paranoid beyond hope. "Wedder was a colleague, nothing more."

Rishi frowned. "You knew Wedder better than that."

The man leaned up against the wall and then slid down it to seat up against it, like Rishi had when he'd come here. "You're right. He was a good companion, a good friend. We were more than just business partners. It saddened me to hear he died." Crip ran a hand through his wild hair, and placed his head between his kneecaps. "He was one of those people, you know? A person so close to you that you are able to share some things only with him." The man's shoulders dropped with sudden agony. "We used to be like that. And then when that person is gone, there will be nothing like that in your life ever again."

Rishi dropped down next to him, concealing them both behind a trashcan. "I didn't know him."

Crip looked up at Rishi, two lines of tears down his cheeks, washing away the filth somewhat. "Neither did I….but he was still my friend. Wedder was someone who you could tell everything, that's what attracted so many of his clients to him. He had a trustworthy face." Crip drew his face away again, and started to sob. "But even I never knew what went on under his facade. He had the most serious facade of anyone I know. To this day I find it hard to realize he knew everything that I wanted him to know about me, and all I know about him was that I could tell him anything."

Rishi could feel immense sorrow inside the man, but the events that had unfolded in the past few days motivated him to keep going, to find the information he was looking for. "So you don't know anything about his clients? Possibly if he'd been hired by someone new in the last few days?"

"Sure, sure," Crip muttered, but he didn't go on.

"Are you going to tell me?" Rishi asked.

The man looked back up, giving Rishi his business face, though the tears made it seem pointless and then he lifted up his hand, rubbed his thumb against his fingers. "This may seem like a cozy moment for you, but for me the meter is running. It'll cost ya."

Rishi felt like slapping the man, but decided against it. "I don't have any credits."

The man's brows furrowed, and he started to get up. "So I've been wasting my time here!" He finally got up, checked both alleyways and then lowered his voice again. "Wedder will be missed, but he will be missed when I'm off-duty. Right now there is money to be made. Since Wedder passed away, its become a better market for the rest of us. Right now the balance is outlined between us all and its all about striking first to earn the reputation as Coruscant's new top information broker."

Rishi crossed his arms, willing to detain the man against his will if he had to. "Do you know that what you're doing is immoral? Profiting off deceit?"

The man responded with another laughter. "Immoral? You've got to be kidding me!" The man stabbed a finger into Rishi's chest. "All I'm doing is moving information from place to place; you're the one carrying a weapon! If you want to talk about moral, there's plenty of religious maniacs out on the streets. You're forgetting where you are; this is Coruscant, a moral-free zone."

Rishi felt it was wiser not to go into that debate, the man might die of natural causes before Rishi had made his point. "I think Wedder was killed because he found out something dangerous. Even for him."

Crip stared at Rishi, a sudden flame of anger igniting in his eyes. "And I think he got killed because someone pushed him off a bridge."

Crip started to walk away, but Rishi grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him back. Crip fought him at first, but Rishi was stronger. He didn't like using his strength against someone like Crip, but his patience had reached its end and he wasn't going to let this game go on anything further. "I want to know who hired him for his last drop-off. Who paid him to deliver that datacard to Skywalker?"

Crip fought against the hand squeezing him against the wall. "Hell if I know!"

Rishi added more pressure to his grip. "I think you do know. And I also think its connected to the bombing of the Senate and the terrorists in the Sumitra Sector." Rishi nodded his head back at the alleyway. "Or maybe I dump you out there on the street, making very sure everyone knows there's a bounty on your head."

The man's panicked face turned red with anger. "You wouldn't dare!"

Rishi didn't let go. "Someone hired him to deliver a datacard containing a personal message to my Master. It was sent to Skywalker because Skywalker was the only who was in contact with my Master. The datacard had a message in it, bait to lure my Master into a trap. I need to know who hired Wedder to set that trap!"

Crip resorted to the less tactful and bit down on Rishi's wrist. The pain was quick and Rishi drew back his hand from it, while Crip started to run for the nearby streets. Rishi bent down and then leaped down the alley, landing before the crazy man, pushing him back with the Force, dampening the noise with the Force from the people on the streets. Crip landed in a pile of trash, spitting curses at Rishi.

"You wanna die, old man? Save it for when we're through!"

Crip remained lying in the trash, panting through his thick beard, still spitting curses, his anger off the scale.

Rishi lifted his hand.

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you what you want," the man surrendered. "You think Wedder knew what was in the card? No, he didn't. That's the first thing they teach you, never look at what you got, all you need to know is where it is supposed to go. To start fuddling around with your goods compromises your own safety. Wedder wasn't that dumb."

Rishi lowered the hand again. "He's never done something like that before?"

"Even if the answer is yes, that would only prove that he didn't look at the card. He wouldn't be stupid enough to make the same mistake twice."

"Was Wedder a moral man?"

Crip calmed down after that. "What are you talking about?"

"If he found something that he felt was dangerous or wrong, would he report it?"

Crip shook his head, picking off pieces of trash from his clothes. It didn't look any cleaner for it. "No, an information-broker like Wedder has to remain neutral, he's just the delivery guy."

Rishi placed his fists at his hips. "What about Wedder as a human, outside of work?"

The old man frowned and spat mucus on the ground in spite. "He knew better than that. People like us have no futures if we worry too much over the details. The less we know the better. If Wedder took a look at his item, which I seriously doubt, it would not only ruin his reputation as a trusted broker. It would also make him a potential target by those who hired him. We're not carrying around recipes, you know? Heck, I don't even want to know what kind of stuff has been in my hands. The less we know -

" - the better. Heard you the first time. But then why was Wedder running when I found him? He was running away from Skywalker. Something made him change his mind about delivering the bait for the trap."

Crip began to look more tired than angry, but there was still hostility in his tone. "Kid, I don't know all the details." The man let out one heavy breath. "But I know that Wedder didn't get paid for the assignment that killed him."

"What?"

Crip nodded, staring at nothing. "For some reason he was doing it for free. Something very un-Wedder-like. Someone or something spooked him. Maybe that's what he was running from."

Rishi stepped up to the man, and crouched down next to him. "But who? Who set the trap?"

Crip shook his head and threw his arms up in the air. "I don't know! He never told me any names. He met with the guy in a bar not too far from here. A Bothan, Rarsk Dokyan was his name. Rarsk is another broker just like me and Wedder. I've worked with him in the past. He was the last one to see Wedder alive."

Rishi rubbed his chin, and made a note of the new name. "This Bothan supplied Wedder with the datacard?"

Crip sighed. "Yes. But the Bothan is just another middleman. Whoever you're looking for sent the datacard to Rarsk and Rarsk then decided to call in the favor Wedder owed him. What happened after Wedder received the card and what spooked him like that, I can't guess."

Rishi rose again, searching the Force for any nearby threats. The place was clean, but only in the Force. "Guess I'll have to go see this Bothan."

Crip snorted. "Good luck. He's a strange sort. He rarely shows himself around daytime. You'll have to come back later. The bar he frequents is two streets down on the corner. "

Rishi almost smiled, he knew the directions. "The Staggering Tusken, right?"

"Right. But be careful down there. They don't appreciate humans too much."

"No kidding." Rishi didn't feel like sharing his experiences in that place with the old man, but knew it ruined his chances of showing up there. "You're sure this Bothan is just another broker?"

Crip supported himself against the wall as he got up. "No, like I said he's a strange guy. Bothans are the ones who invented the information trade. Bothans are all in all a very untrustworthy species because of their constant hungering for power. They'll stab their own brother in the back, even their own mother, if it helps them climb the power ladder. Basically Bothans are always connected, and they always know more than they lead on."

"So you don't trust him either?" Rishi asked.

Crip smirked. "Of course not; he does the same work I do. But he can probably tell you a whole lot more than I can. Just make sure you don't end up dead." Crip started walking down the alley and Rishi followed him, this time having no objections to leaving the man to his own fate, he'd found the information he needed.

"What about those assassins? Aren't you worried whoever wanted Wedder dead is coming for you next?"

Crip stopped at the entrance to the alley and gave Rishi another are-you-stupid face? "Of course I am."

"You should go someplace safe."

Crip coughed. "At my age its pointless to think you can run from Death." Crip smiled warmly. "Listen, one night over some Corellian malt Wedder let some of his secrets slip. Such as people he's worked for and the kind of things he's helped spawn simply by transporting a small datacard from one place to another. And let me tell you; with what I know of what he's done, you can bet your stars he ain't a moral man!"

"Why?"

Crip brushed some more dust off his clothes, and then took a look out at the street, seeing the many faces walking by, all the brilliant holograms and neon lights that held the night at bay. "If he had just half the moral of a normal person, Wedder wouldn't have been pushed off a bridge." Crip looked back at Rishi and Rishi spotted some sorrow there. "He would have taken the jump himself." With that Crip waved Rishi goodbye and walked out of the alley. "May the whatever be with you, son."

"I appreciate your help," Rishi shouted.

Crip was already out in the street, waving another hand at Rishi without looking back at him. "Don't say that too soon. You might not make it through the night."

* * *

It was only because of the second tumble that went through the ship that Skar finally managed to open his eyes and see the situation for himself. Equipment, crew and just about everything else had been thrown to the back of the ship, blocking the ramp. The ship was tilted in a very awkward position, only then to be completely reverted.

Skar flew across the hold, tons of equipment and soldiers following him, crushing down upon him as they crashed against the opposite wall. By the time Skar thought of using the Force to augment the situation, he'd forgotten all about the vision he'd had. And the pain-filled revelation he'd been given would have to wait until hell was over.

Skar reached out to the Force and lifted all of the equipment off him and the soldiers, letting them get up and in time he pressed himself up too. The soldiers hustled to rope down the equipment while Skar brushed himself off, noticing a nerve-wrecking pain splitting his way up his thigh. Skar ignored it for now as he jetted to the cockpit of the ship to find out what had happened.

As the compartment door slid open to the cockpit Skar was met with a blinding white blur that forced him to cover his eyes with his hand. At first imaging that the ship was on fire, he slowly realized what the white was.

Snow.

They'd arrived at Regana and by the size and scale of the mountains and terrain outside the screens, Skar concluded they'd breached the atmosphere. The pilot looked over his shoulder at him, his hands clenched around the controls, working franticly to gain control of the ship. Skar knew it was over for the ship, a quick look over the terminals told him that the main engine was shot to hell, the shield a thing of the past, and a crash was soon to come. The ship was flying on wind and gravity alone, in and out of ravenous mountains, the nose of the ship pointed straight.

The pilot screamed. "I've sent word to Coruscant! They'll send a rescue team! I tried hailing the recon team but there was no reply!"

Skar walked up behind the pilot seat, he gathered they only had a few minutes before this ship became a permanent piece of the landscape. Two of the soldiers came up behind him, one of them Kast. Skar saw the panicked look on their faces and ventured sardonicly, "this is where the fun begins."

Kast asked the obvious. "How did they spot us?"

The pilot's voice sounded very distraught. "This ship's invisible to radar," the man explained, "but not to the naked eye. We were not meant to come out this close! In this terrain, we stand out like a Rancor at a Jawa swap-meeting!"

"Cute analogy," Skar said calmly. "Move this ship as far away from the station as you can!"

"I've already launched the RATM, he can provide intel once we get down." Kast came up next to Skar, and made a lopsided grin. "Great _stealth _ship, huh?"

Skar didn't have time to appreciate the irony.

"Get the men ready to evacuate!" the pilot screamed, sounding like he was going out of his mind.

Kast shook his head. "The ramp's controls are destroyed. And we can't rope down at this speed, the ship is supposed to hover."

The pilot seemed too preoccupied to think of another idea. Skar took over, trying to keep himself as calm as possible. Panicking usually worked against you in situations like these. "We've got ejection pods, don't we?" Skar turned to Kast. "Pack as much as you can and get the men to the pods!" Skar turned around to the pilot. "If it still works, engage the auto-pilot and get yourself to a pod."

The pilot stared up at him. "There's not enough pods, the ship only has eight. There are seven soldiers and then you."

Skar shook his head, staring at the landscape outside rushing up to face him. "You can take mine." Skar said the words without emotion. He knew it was his duty as a Jedi to safeguard as many lives as he could, at the expense of his own safety. That was the nature of a Jedi.

The pilot jumped from his seat and flicked on the auto-pilot. It wouldn't save them but it would keep the ship steady in the course it was heading and it gave them enough time to get off it. The pilot turned on his heel outside the cockpit. "What about you?"

Skar waved him off, without turning to look at him. "I'll think of something. GO!"

Alone in the cockpit Skar seated himself in the sweaty pilot-seat and checked the terminals for any information he could use. The ship had been shot at by a ground mounted rocket launcher, according to the onboard computer, and the blast had taken out most of their maneuverability and control of the ship.

The ship had begun drawing a map of the outside terrain for its own directional understanding. Skar also learned from the ship that the incident he'd had with the boy, Red, had infact been two days ago. Skar had been out for two days, but to him it had only seemed like a few minutes. A few minutes that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

_Which might not be that long_, Skar thought as the landscape outside came closer and closer, not to mention more and more deadly.

Skar allowed himself to think beyond the current situation, allowed his mind to gather the pieces of information he'd acquired so far. Everything had happened so fast since that day a week ago when Luke had handed him the datacard. Signed by Kayupa. Confirmed by Master Bo-Hi that Kayupa's fate was not yet resolved, the Master hadn't been able to talk to Kayupa since his spirit fled in and out, always moving.

Kayupa was alive in some way, but not entirely his old self. He was the one who'd sent the datacard especially to Skar. A formal declaration of occupancy had been sent to the Republic, but a very personal and private message had been sent to Skar himself.

Kayupa wanted him here.

_What is it you want from me, brother? _

The terrorists had shot down the stealth ship certainly, but was killing Skar really all Kayupa wanted? Skar didn't believe so. More likely he'd shot at the ship to take out the soldiers, leaving Skar to face Kayupa alone. Skar wasn't deterred by that, but he'd seen the images of the Sons of Destiny soldiers, thousands of them, and he didn't want them to get between Skar and Kayupa.

But if Kayupa wanted to play, Skar would play.

Skar downloaded as much information as he could to his comlink, storing the information there so he could later extract it and study it closer on a datapad. The map he memorized instantly, copied it to his mind and preserved its details perfectly with the Force.

Skar returned to the hold. The soldiers were busy storing as much weaponry and equipment as they could into their satchels. Skar collected his own and strapped it on, then he began shouting orders to the men, ordering them to hustle and move faster. His words were needless, everyone knew the danger they were in. The soldiers grabbed as much as they could carry and cram into the one-man escape pods.

Even the young Red was rushing, the boy worked better than Skar would have thought he could. One by one the pods jettisoned with rocket velocity, and suddenly the crew compartment was almost empty.

The pilot was the last one, who barely noticed Skar as he jumped into a pod. The pod door didn't close before Skar had thrown a thermal jacket in with him. "You're gonna need this." Skar closed the hatch and launched the pod. The emergency vehicle shot off with an ear-splitting roar, Skar felt the ship shuttering beneath his boots and knew time was about to run out. He was carrying all of his gear and all he needed to do was to get off the ship.

The question was how.

It crossed Skar's mind slowly that the pilot seat in the cockpit might have an ejection switch, but doubted it since that wouldn't save the pilot if the ship was in deep space. That theory aside Skar wanted to check it anyway.

But he never got that far. A violent quake rumbled through the ship and Skar found himself tossed to the back of the ship, laying sprawled over the ramp. The very same ramp that he'd heard Kast say earlier, didn't work. Skar looked up at where he'd been standing before, only to learn that what had thrown him across the hold had not been natural. It hadn't been the ship tossing.

Skar laid there frozen as he felt a cold being surround him. He wanted to move but his body remained still. As the ship tore to pieces around him, flames erupting from pipes and controls, entire wall panels ripped open revealing the blinding light of the outside, Skar felt the Force preventing him from budging as it channeled itself through him, collecting some of his strength to manifest a presence before him. Skar could only obey as the Force weakened him.

A spirit appeared before him.

An aging old man wearing a black cloak appeared before him. Inside the eyes of this soul, a geyser of hatred and anger erupted, a lightning of evil. The man's eyes stared down at him with such contempt that one might think Skar had betrayed him in some past life. As it happened, he had. Skar could only meet the gaze unable to move away from it as the spirit pointed its gray finger at him. Skar recognized the spirit of Skind Kjoil, his uncle.

It was him.

"You…died?"

Before he got an answer, Skar gasped, feeling millions of tiny claws moving over his body, nailing him to the surface of the ramp, leaving him defenseless against the spirit of this madman. Skind Kjoil crouched down over his chest, his red eyes alive with hatred. Skind's face turned to look at the controls for the ramp Skar was lying on, closed his eyes, and a sputter of sparks flew from the controls.

Soon afterwards the ramp began to groan and Skar felt himself slipping as the surface he laid on tilted into a downwards angle. The cold wind of the outside howled all around him and Skar looked above him to see the snowy white plains beneath ship, almost like an ocean waving with the wind. Skar began to slide across the ramp, falling ever closer to the edge.

Skind's hand reached out and clutched around Skar's shin, holding him tight. Skind Kjoil hovered over him, his voice loud and full of rancor. "Hold yourself to your promise! No matter the cost!" Skind closed his eyes sadly. "Death...has been kept from us for far too long. Its time to bury the dead."

Skind Kjoil deteriorated and Skar was released from the hold Skind had put over him. Skar quickly reached out to hold onto something but his fingers slipped on everything and eventually he fell tumbling out the back of the ship, into the whiteness below, falling face down. He screamed, as the confusion surrounded him, as he saw the white snow racing up to meet him, racing faster and faster until he could almost reach out and touch it.

And then he did.

* * *

Kast hadn't missed a beat since his pod had set down in the snowy landscape. And now as he jogged south towards the site where the recon team should be based, he'd already primed his weapons and was ready for action. He knew others would be moving towards the recon team's site, it was the first objective. From there they'd assess damages and losses and then proceed towards the enemy base. There was only the small problem that whoever had shot down their ship was mostly likely searching its remains for survivors. There was also the chance that someone had seen their pods eject. Kast had thought of that on the way down and knew it would be smartest to separate himself from the crash-site as soon as possible.

He'd considered contacting the other team members, but hoped they knew as he did that calling would make them easier to find. If the enemy was scanning their frequencies, they'd just be making it easier to be found. The important thing was to get to the recon team and devise a strategy.

Kast was worried about the snow. The ejection pods were easy to spot in the sky, and the enemy might be moving against them, wanting to take out the occupants. Even if they found no one in the pods, they'd be stupid not to notice the set of footprints in the snow moving away from there. Which was why time was everything.

As soon as everyone was together, they could form their own attack squad or build an ambush. However it might all turn out, one thing was sure; a stealth intrusion was no longer possible. The enemy were onto them now, and unless they were sure they'd killed everyone, it would be impossible to get inside their perimeter. And as long as there were footprints to follow, they wouldn't suspect that everyone was dead.

It bothered Kast that he hadn't gotten a good perspective on their attackers yet. The intel he'd gotten back home had been lacking at best, all they had were pictures, they didn't have any idea of how well trained these terrorists actually were. In all likelihood they could be as good as him, or even better. Knowing what kind of enemy he was up against allowed him different strategies, not knowing made him almost impotent.

Kast had chosen to regard the opposition as being as good as himself, at least that way he would be careful. But it did ask some other rather annoying questions, professionals were predictable, it was the amateurs you had to be careful of; you couldn't predict what an amateur might do.

Feeling the tension biting away at his concentration, Kast shut away those thoughts for later scrutiny. The only thing that made him feel safe right about now, was the familiar and comfortable blaster rifle in his palms. The thermal jacket he'd picked up in a hurry onboard the stealth ship was sufficient in keeping him warm for now, but it ran on heater units and its supply would run out eventually. He had to get everyone together to assess how much gear had been saved and how long they would, or could, last outside in the snow. Getting inside the enemy base was part of the mission but it might take hours or days before they could find a weak entry point for them to use. Everything depended on rations and the heater units.

He also had to rely on his own inner compass, they had no equipment to locate each other, other than Tracker, whom Kast had yet to be able to make contact with. He was sure the RATM had gotten out of the ship, but it had probably already begun sweeping the area from up high, trying to locate all of its members.

Kast stopped abruptly, dropped down on his knees, his breath panting as he estimated his own position and heading by looking at the sun, almost invisible behind the brightness of the clouds. He was heading in the right direction. He looked up and around, saw smoke rising like a thick snake to the clear blue skies to his right; the crashed stealth ship.

Kast's eyes narrowed.

_The Jedi. _

He wondered if Jarod Marhar had gotten off. The man had stayed behind on the ship, making sure everyone else had safely gotten away, even the pilot.

_The pilot._

Kast remembered the pilot mentioning that he'd tried to hail the recon team but they hadn't responded. The pilot had also mentioned sending word to Coruscant, confident that the Republic would send a rescue team. Kast knew a rescue team, if one was indeed sent, would take too long to get here, the stealth ship itself had traveled for almost a week to get here. And even if the message to Coruscant had gotten through, it would take them hours or at least a day before they received it. The space between Regana and Coruscant was too vast to even consider hoping for a rescue operation.

Kast wished he knew what exactly the pilot had told Coruscant about their situation. So far Kast hadn't gotten a good enough perspective to deem the mission a failure or not. If the pilot had given the impression that the mission was a failure, they would send a fleet of ships to handle the situation. There would be a battle. But if Kast could get his team together they could hopefully, with a lot of luck, have the situation all cleared out by then. Time was against them.

Against him.

Kast heard a faint noise in his helmet and a small screen lit up in his HUD. Someone was trying to hail him. Clicking it on with his tongue, he was wary of the danger of making a transmission. And he hoped whoever it was, who was calling him had good reason to jeopardize their safety. "Point," Kast said emotionlessly.

"Point, Alpha three here."

It was Red, Kast tried to push away the anger he'd felt when the man had attacked him in the ship, tried to be professional, petty differences could wait till after the mission was completed.

"We're bunked out southwest of the crash site, three in our group."

Kast flicked on his helmet binoculars with his tongue, the HUD magnified his vision, compensated for the thick winds, and he searched the terrain in front of him. He could spot small specs of movement up ahead, 2 miles out from his position, according to the HUD. Three people had survived. So far. "Who's there with you?"

"Four and lead."

Alpha Three and lead; that would be Stix and their team leader; Salvor. That made four in their group so far. They still had three others in their team to account for, not to mention the pilot and Jarod. "Any sign of the others?"

"Alpha five is with the pilot," Red's words said more than they led on.

Kast was almost afraid to ask. "Six and seven?"

Red took a awhile to reply. "They didn't make it. Alpha five has set up shop a mile from our position. Suggest you get your butt over here so we can regroup."

Kast was all for that. But someone wasn't accounted for. "What about Jarod?"

Red sounded confused. "Who?"

"The Jedi," Kast said, thinking of no other way to describe the man. That stunt he'd pulled with the lightsaber in the hold had made Kast anxious about the guy. But with five members of their team intact, the pilot, and the Jedi, Kast hoped he was still alive, they might yet be able to scramble a functioning team on its feet.

Red's voice sounded hesitant. "We haven't seen him."

"Any signs of hostiles?"

Red's voice was more relieved. "No, not so far. But I suggest we move out. It won't be long before they search the crash site. Any sign of the RATM?"

Kast shook his head, conscious that Red wouldn't see it. "No, my guess is Tracker is still drawing a visual readout of the terrain, like its programmed to do."

Red didn't sound too relieved. "Forget about the Jedi, we have to get moving."

Kast made a weak attempt to smile. "Copy that."

Static came through the reception. Kast guessed it could have been the thickness of the falling snow, but suspected it was the enemy that had picked up on their transmission and was scrambling it.

He could faintly hear Red's voice. "…enemy…we're…flashburst…"

That word sent ice down Kast's already cold spine. "No!"

At that he got up and ran as fast as he could, with the harsh wind beating at him, towards Red's position, but he had a feeling he was gonna be late.

* * *

"My dear Eulogy," her General almost whispered into her earpiece, "scanners say that the ship crashed south of here. Locate the ship and dispose of them."

Junn smiled like a predator eager for the hunt. "Yes, General." She swirled her twin blasters twice on her trigger-fingers before holstering them. Then she knelt down in the lift, ran her hand across the touchpad on the casing by her feet and the box's surface slid open. Inside laid a perfectly polished long range blaster rifle, custom made to her needs just like the guns. Junn lifted it from the casing and began assembling its scope, laser designator, and placed the small tripod in her belt for when she needed it.

She also picked up the two standard clips for the rifle and one clip of rapid fire bolts. She slammed a normal clip into the rifle and strapped the other two clips to the armor covering her chest and belly. Aside from these weapons she also carried a vibroblade in a sheath in her right boot and a second spring-out blade inside her right sleeve. Finished arming herself she strapped the rifle to her back and turned around to face the seven mercenaries riding down the lift with her.

"We go in strong! This is the real thing, not a simulation anymore! You go when I go, and you do what I say! Understood?"

The seven mercenaries nodded as one. She felt there was still much they had to learn and she wasn't too keen on going out on a task such as this with a group like them. She would rather have a group of her own men with her, but her General had ordered it, and she wouldn't question it.

That was who she was.

She'd been the one that had spotted the stealth ship, with her own eyes. The starfighter patrols in orbit had reported seeing something come out of hyperspace but they'd lost track of it. That had been her first clue. She didn't know who the unmarked ship belonged to, Republic or other, but she knew whoever chose to come here in a ship built for stealth was trouble.

The lift touched the snow and the doors ripped open, a wind of snow blowing through and whirling around them.

"GO!"

* * *

Skar got on his feet slowly, each move sending a thousand nails down his spine, each breath a fire through his entire body. He remained crouched, getting comfortable in that position first before trying to stand. He wiped the snow from his face and felt the sharp warm pain running down the left side of his face. He touched it and when he pulled away his hand there was a strip of red on his palm, along with small crystals of snow, it was still hermorraging. He would have to stitch the wound when he had time. His head pounded, he could barely feel his ears anymore, yet he was certain he could hear because of the constant roaring of wind that coursed all around him.

Skar closed his eyes, tried to focus on the pain in order to assess its nature. Through the Force he learned he'd suffered a mild concussion as well as losing a small, but significant, amount of blood.

A new pain slowly graduated into his mind and Skar looked down to see the gray fabric on his right thigh sliced open, as well as the skin beneath. The wound had frozen shut but it was another stitch he would have to make later. Steam rose from the wound. The cut had opened many arteries, and as soon as the snow melted away, which it would soon because of the heat in his blood, it would begin bleeding again.

Skar cracked his neck, loosening the muscles there and allowed the Force to shape his mind into a more functional state. His senses were rejuvenated rather quickly but his body still felt like it'd been tossed halfway across the Galaxy.

Skar sniffled. _Not far from the truth._

He looked around himself to get a better view of where he was. Debris from the stealth ship laid cluttered all around him and there was a giant cloud of smoke rising from the hilltop behind him. He wondered how many of the soldiers had survived. With winds like this their pods would have been strewn all over the terrain, possibly several miles from each other.

He would have to gather as many as he could as fast as he could. When he reached out to them, he felt their confusion and loss of way. If their training had been as good as he hoped, they would know to start looking for each other, and gather as much as they could carry. And if they failed to find others, they would set up camps and concentrate on staying alive. Flashbursts would no doubt soon begin to fly to the sky. Flashbursts were like signal-flares, but Skar had his worries about firing a burst off since it would lead the enemy straight to them.

Skar pressed himself up, his body aching and his head still pounding. He padded himself down for equipment and found his lightsaber attached to his belt, as well as his blaster. His satchel seemed intact, which left Skar relieved since all of his equipment was in there.

His thermal jacket, one he'd taken onboard the ship shortly before the crash, had been torn to shreds by the engine fire and he threw it away, deeming it useless. A normal man would latch on to the jacket in whatever condition it was, since even a little warmth was better than nothing. But Skar relied on the Force to keep him warm.

Skar was more worried about the fact that he had no rations. Without food and water he would become weak very soon. The Force could replenish him but only for so long. Without food, he could make it two days, but only with constant Force attention. It wasn't good enough. He needed supplies and he needed it fast.

Sounding like an explosion at first, Skar heard a screeching sound and looked up to see a red trail of light softly flying through the wind before exploding in a giant firework.

A flashburst.

_No..._

Skar pushed away the pain and started running in the direction of the flashburst.

* * *

Junn paced herself as she ran across the snow. Behind her the seven mercenaries were having a hard time keeping up with her, but it was necessary for her to get there fast. Her seven mercenary companions fanned out on either side of her and continued to run forward towards the enemy while she threw herself on a slope and pulled her sniper-rifle from her back. They would act as on site assessment team while she would be the long range support group. She attached the tripod in record time to its barrel and leaned herself into the rifle.

Two miles away she could see a small tent set up, the kinds soldiers used at night or in harsh conditions. Junn counted three shapes moving around by the tent site, most of them walking in a very familiar kind of way. The way a warrior would walk when he was in unfamiliar and hostile territory. One of the figures was busy checking his weapons, while the other two searched the horizons for friends. She didn't recognize the armor or gear they were wearing, which troubled her somewhat. Republic troops always had markings on their armor to identify themselves as part of the Republic, but these didn't.

She clicked her comm on. "Group, attack pattern seven."

The confirmation came through with a double click from the advance team. Junn peered through her scope and zoomed in on one of the soldiers, a young man with red hair who was busy swirling his blaster on his trigger finger.

He would be the first to go.

* * *

Skar hadn't taken a breath in a long time when he came running up the slope right next to the tent. He could feel danger pressing down on the whole area like a giant cloud and he knew something was about to happen very soon. The flashburst had been a stupid idea and now it would cost the soldiers their lives. Skar came up over the slope, holding out his hand, screaming for them to move.

He managed to identify Red the second before the entire world turned black. He felt like he was moving slower than he actually was when he heard the muffled sound careening across the snow dunes, moving ever closer. Time blurred all around Skar when he saw the red beam coming up behind Red at an insane speed, before it slammed right into his back and exited through his chest, flying right over Skar's shoulder. Red fell to his knees, a giant hole where his chest had once been.

Skar rolled down the slope and landed right next to Red, catching him in his arms before he fell to the ground. Skar knew the boy was a goner, the boy's visage was still painted with the joy of seeing Skar again before his face clouded up into death.

Skar let Red's body drop to the ground and screamed at the others. "Down!"

Shocked by the attack the two soldiers threw themselves to the ground as the sky around them filled with intersecting lines of red fire, the snow lighting up in a reddish glow around them. Skar sensed seven spirits heading towards them, blasters firing. The two soldiers counter-attacked with their own rifles, bolts wheezing.

The enemy had the drop on them, Skar and his two allies were held down inside the small ditch in the snow, huddled up behind small hills of ice, while their attackers had a better attack-position from higher ground..

"What was that!" one of the soldiers, Salvor was his name, shouted over the wind.

Skar readied his blaster. "Long range rifle. A sniper."

"Did the flashburst lead them to us!" the other soldier asked, Skar recognized him as Stix.

Salvor answered for him. "Sharp thinking, genius!"

"I told Red it was a bad idea!" Stix snapped back. Stix turned to Skar, "The rest of the team have set up camp a mile away from here! We were waiting for our point man to show up! We wanted to get as many together so we could regroup!"

Skar's heart raced and he completely forgot about the pain shooting through his thigh and head. "How many are in the other camp?"

"Two! One of them is the pilot!" Salvor shouted.

"What about the last three?"

Stix shook his head. "Two of them bought it in the pods, one of them crashed into a mountain and the other landed in the middle of a frozen lake. We've had communication with Alpha point, right before you showed up. We've been keeping in touch through our comlinks, but this storm is making it hard to make normal transmissions, that's why we're pushing to get everyone together."

Salvor ventured a question. "How come none of us picked up the sniper on our scopes! Where is that blasted RATM! And who the hell invented reloading!"

Skar brought up his own blaster and fired three shots around the corner of his hideout, his bolts hid nothing but it was important they held their aggressors at bay.

Stix sprayed a thick fan of bolts over his head with his rifle then came back down and gave Skar a frenzied look. "We're pinned down here! We have to move!"

Skar agreed. The only reason they weren't dead yet was because they were in the ditch, the moment they stood the enemy would have something to shoot at. They were trapped.

"I have an idea," Skar said.

"Do tell," Stix shouted as he rose and laced the air with rapid blaster fire.

Skar clutched the lightsaber on his hip. "It all depends on how fast you can run," he lit the green blade, casting a green light across the white snow, "and how much you trust me."

Stix cast him an apprehensive glance, then looked over his shoulder at Salvor.

"Go for it!"

Skar rose from the ditch, putting his blade up in his defense stance, expecting the amount of bolts coming his way, but accepted his duty. With skillful ease he deflected the dozens of bolts away from the soldiers behind him. They seemed to grasp the situation, picked as much as they could carry and all of them started running as fast as they could away from where Skar was standing, his blade moving in a web of light in his hands.

Skar couldn't see his attackers, but he could see their muzzle flashes and sense their distance; and that was all he needed to protect his team. Although they might escape, it wouldn't be long before the enemy followed them, a final stand-down was inevitable. But Skar preferred another battleground, one he could manage.

Once he felt the two soldiers were safe, Skar somersaulted out of his position, landing away from the target zone and immediately fell into a sprint, using the Force to move him faster. Bolts zipped by his feet at first, but he managed to put enough distance between him and them that the bolts were useless, he fell out of their range and they had no choice but to pursue.

Pursue him into his battleground.

After a few minutes of running Skar reached the camp, which consisted of a small crevasse at the foot of a mountain. The remaining soldier had taken up a good position just up the mountain, from there he'd been able to see Skar and the others coming. The pilot had secluded himself inside the crevasse, along with all the saved gear. The pilot was shuttering with cold and he clung on to his coat and gloves, nervously panting.

Skar waved at the trooper on the hillside and signaled him to stay put and keep a look out. It was good to have someone up high, both for covering fire as well as scouting. The two other soldiers greeted and saluted him like he was a combat buddy, thankful for his help back at the ditch. Skar allowed the gratitude wash over him, only to freshen him, and tried to remain as conscious as he could about their current situation. It wouldn't be long before the enemy would find them here.

Stix took his first good look at Skar. "You're bleeding."

Skar waved him off, knelt down by the crevasse and saw the pilot. "How long are you gonna stay down there?"

The pilot stuttered, shivering with immense cold. "We were only able to save one…of the heat units. And the rations…are all gone."

Skar felt dread eating away at his heart. "You lost all of them? How is that possible?"

Standing behind Skar, Salvor answered. "Dasan, Alpha seven, was carrying all of the rations, the rest of us stowed up on weapons and gear."

Skar turned his attention back to the pilot. "Where is Dasan?"

The pilot just shook his head.

Skar sighed. "What about the other heat units?"

"Hiot, Alpha six, had them," Stix answered.

Skar was almost afraid to ask. "And where is he?"

The pilot pointed at the mountain. "Splattered, somewhere up there. We haven't see any debris fall down yet. He's not answering his comlink."

Skar could accept the man had died, but considering the spot he'd chosen for his grave it was impossible to retrieve the supplies. Skar reached out to the Force and listened for signs of life up the mountain but got nothing. He hadn't really expected anything anyway.

"He's dead. We're short on anything but enemies." Skar looked around and did a count in his head. The point man was missing, and three of the men were dead. Skar looked around once more and failed to recognize the face of the man he'd been talking to on the ship. Kast. "Alpha point, that's Kast, right?"

Stix nodded. "That's right."

Skar took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the pilot. "Alpha seven, Dasan. The one with the rations. Where is his body, we might be able to salvage some rations from him."

The pilot shivered with unexplainable fear. "I'm not going back there…its not safe."

Skar felt a level of hesitation in the pilot. There was something he wasn't letting up, more than conventional fear. "What?"

The pilot refused to meet eyes with Skar. "Someone had already gotten to him."

Salvor frowned. "He was the sharpest of the crew, of all of us. Anyone that got by him had to be good." The soldier sniffed, a quiver in his lip. "Really good."

Skar kept his attention on the pilot. "What happened to him?"

The pilot still wouldn't meet Skar's gaze. "A…nightmare."

Skar swallowed and reached out to the Force. He could feel the sniper far away as well as others approaching them, following Skar's and the soldiers' tracks in the snow. But something drove Skar to disregard the fact. "Take me to where you found the body."

The pilot shivered in his pit. "No! We have no time for that! We need to get to the station as quickly as possible. We can get food and heat there. That should be our main priority."

Salvor nodded. "I'm with flyboy. Without heat units and rations we won't last a day."

Skar rose and turned to Salvor, their leader. He seemed to know better than the others. "But a day is all we need. I read the ship's screens before it went down. We're six miles out from the repair yard. We can cross that distance easily, even in this snow."

Salvor shook his head. "But survival depends on finding food the moment we get there. Which won't be probable since the moment we get there we'll either have to stay really low or we'll have a gunfight on our hands."

Stix agreed. "And you're forgetting our little trophy-winning long range shooter out there."

The pilot joined in. "And the thing that took out Dasan. We'll have to take that into account as well."

Skar sighed. It would have been much easier if he'd gone alone. He could have made it to the station on his own and found food fast enough. But now he was towing four other people whose lives depended on him to work with them. And they didn't have the same ability as him to prolong eating or resisting the cold. They were slowing him down.

Stix looked to him. "What do we do?"

Eager for a plan, Skar looked out into the horizon, then back at the camp, the crevasse, the mountain, the -

Skar's eyes shifted back. The mountain.

Squinting his eyes, scanning up the side of the great wall that held them running any futher, he could see a small cave, seemingly created by something other than nature, between ground level and where the last soldier has set up his sniping position. Stix and Salvor followed his stare and then looked at each other.

"Mount Lori," Stix said.

Skar turned to them. "What?"

Salvor nodded with his chin at the mountain, the great slab of rock and snow that loomed over them. "We were given very little intel about the terrorists and the station before setting out, but we were given standard intel about Regana itself. One of the reports included an excavation of a mountain; Mount Lori. The only mountain they've named on this planet...mainly because its the only mountain they've studied. The cave you're looking at is manmade," Salvor shrugged, "its got to be Mount Lori."

"How far did the excavation go?"

Stix began to smile slightly, apparently starting to feel optimistic. "It was their plan to set up a shelter inside, they didn't really finish, there should be lost of pipes still lying around, but - "

"No time for this," Salvor interrupted, "but trust me when I say things just brightened a great deal. They were working on an underground tunnel spanning from inside the mountain all the way to the station."

Skar frowned. "What? No one told me - "

"Command figured the enemy would have closed off the tunnel, but no one knows. It's worth checking out, it's the best we got."

Skar chose to trust the men, given no real better alternative, feeling slightly betrayed that he hadn't heard about any underground tunnel. "What about Kast?" He's still out there."

Salvor nodded. "I don't like leaving him behind, but chances are he's already dead."

"He'll know to find us here?"

"He knows about this place, Red told him in our communication. If he's alive he'll be here eventually."

Skar turned away from the mountain and gazed out over the dunes of snow. "If I take care of the sniper and his back-up...we can escape inside the mountain, wait for Kast, and head towards the station at nightfall."

The two soldiers looked at each other. "You plan to take them on by yourself?"

"No, you'll help me," Skar looked at Salvor, a cold confidence in his eyes, "but I guarantee victory." Skar was lying, he couldn't predict something like that. He felt the lie was appropriate however, as he needed to rally the men together, needed to keep them focused. A little fighting and a victory might just do that. He didn't like the risks, but if he did they wouldn't be risks.

The team leader shrugged after a moment of thinking. "Better than dying without a fight. What do you want us to do?"

* * *

The enemy advance team came running over the snow and found the crevasse. The place looked deserted at first sight, there was a number of footprints walking around the place but it would take too long to figure out what the tracks meant. Instead they pushed on towards the crevasse, their weapons ready and keeping an eye out for a trap.

Just as they were about to reach the crevasse, a shadow leaped up before them with a green lightsaber in its hands. The soldiers trained all their attention on this enemy, and didn't notice the three soldiers coming up of holes dug into the snow behind the crevasse at the foot of the mountain.

Skar somersaulted onto the scene with his lightsaber ready. His lightsaber was humming through the falling snow, as he touched down and brought his lightsaber down from high right to low left, slicing through the first of the soldiers between his neck and right shoulder and all the way down by his left hip.

The soldier hadn't touched the ground before Skar was on to the next. His lightsaber sang and a second soldier lost his right arm, and his head a second later. The four remaining enemies started blasting away. Skar parried the shots and even sent some of them flying right back at their owners. Skar placed his trust in the Force as he let go of himself and the Force guided the lightsaber in front of him, blocking the deadly shots, while the three soldiers had amble time to shoot down the enemies.

Skar leaped out of the way as a explosive projectile came flying past his shoulder and exploded against the mountain side behind him. Skar didn't check if any of his men were injured in the explosion, he kept his focus on protecting them from the shots with his lightsaber. His lightsaber still danced around the place, ricocheting shots.

Skar embraced the nature of his being; a protector, and focused all his strength into that desire to protect those who counted on him. He reached out to the men behind him, added a little of the Force to their abilities. Their aims were more accurate and more precise because of his touch. The odds were definitely pushed to Skar's side, his men had him to protect them and he gave them a window of opportunity to take out the enemies without risking themselves.

The firefight slowly came to a close and Skar finished off with a wide swipe of the blade, cleaving three heads in one move. He remained standing there for a few seconds, letting his breathing slow before putting away his lightsaber away.

The grenade had wounded one of the soldiers, Stix, his leg burnt but he kept himself upright by his own strength, which Skar found admirable. Any normal man would have screamed in agony, but this soldier bit it down and used the pain as motivation. He smiled bravely while the others stared at his battered leg.

Skar padded Stix on his shoulder. "I can help you if you want me to."

"Its nothing, I've had worse."

Skar believed the man and turned to the others. The pilot and one of the other soldiers were busy scavenging the corpses lying in the snow for rations and ammo, as well as stripping the men of their jackets, boots and coats, which seemed to be a better solution than hanging on to the heater units that were almost dry. Food came up lacking but the men looked more positive now that they had been given a smaller victory.

Skar kneed down next to one of the enemy soldiers, a Sullustan dressed in hunting gear, armed with an outdated rifle and some grenades. Skar looked over at the other slain enemies, all of different races and carrying different weapons. These weren't soldiers.

"Mercenaries," Skar growled.

Salvor overheard him and looked up, then he looked around at the dead. Something passed over his face. "You think?"

"Looks like it," Skar said as he rose, "this was no army. They're hired help."

A soldier, Call, the one from the hillside, came up behind him, looking more chipper because of his new jacket, which he'd donned over his own. "So?"

"It means we haven't yet seen their full skill. I saw images of the enemy before we left Coruscant, they were soldiers, military, well-trained. These," Skar waved at the dead, "are not our main opposition. The ones I saw were better. Army guys. Professionals."

"Army?" Salvor asked.

"To hold down a place like Hope's Haven, you would need thousands of soldiers, which they have. I don't understand the mercenary inclusion," Skar said, rubbing his beard in confusion. Too much didn't add up. He also noticed that none of those slain had a sniper rifle. The sniper was still out there.

"I noticed it too," Salvor came up along side Skar, "no sniper rifle."

Skar turned his eyes out towards the dunes, but didn't feel anything amiss. Either the sniper was still out there or he'd turned back. "We're safe for now," he turned around and faced the mountain, eyeing the cave, unable not to compare it to an open mouth that awaited ready to swallow them. But at the moment, Skar could think of nothing better than getting out of the cold and into a setting where the enemy could only come from one direction.

"What do you say we get out of this cold?"

* * *

Junn rose up on one knee, staring at the mountain miles away, and that small black gap in its surface that had stolen her prey. She snarled at her own failure, annoyed that she hadn't been able to settle this situation as easily as she'd imagined. The wind pulled at her face and hair, narrowing her eyes to prevent tearing. She brushed off the snow that had layered upon her back and shoulders in her crouched position.

She flicked on the comlink on her shoulder, "General, this is Eulogy." She hated the way her voice trembled in this cold, it made her sound like she was crying. "I've lost the intruders inside a cave."

His reply was slow. "You lost them?"

She bowed her head, and just then she actually felt like crying. "I'm...sorry, General."

Again he didn't answer right away, but just hearing his breathing on the other end broke her heart. "I don't know what to say, Junn. I didn't expect this from you."

She fought back the urge to cry. "This is different, one of them is a Jedi. He took out my advance team. I managed to take out one of them, another one died coming down - "

He broke in. "I happen to know Sonnet has take care of one of them too."

Junn's heart finally broke, and only the snow melting on her face disguised the tears. "Sonnet is out here too?"

"Yes."

Her jaw dropped and she wanted to scream a million questions at once but she just couldn't push them past her lips. Why was he sent out here without her knowing? Not that she didn't like Sonnet at all, he was a fellow comrade, but she still felt decieved.

His voice came through again. "What should I tell Jovis? Did his men die...honorably?"

Junn didn't care, not the slightest bit. "What do you think?"

"I see," he sounded annoyed, "did you manage to get a count?"

Junn forced herself to answer. "Three soldiers, a Jedi and the pilot."

"Very well. You will stand down and return to base. Sonnet will take care of it from here."

Junn stood fully. "The mission is not over!"

Her General's voice changed, it hardened somewhat. "It is for you, Eulogy. No choice. Return to base."

She couldn't believe it, she'd never been ordered back to base before. "Have you lost faith in me?"

He chuckled warmly on the other end. "Not at all...but you have never stood up to a Jedi before. This isn't the right time to test yourself against one."

She smiled fiendishly. "You're forgetting...after this there'll never be a chance again."

He stayed silent for several heartbeats. "You really want this?"

She nodded to the snow. "I can do it, I know it."

"Very well," he said with an edge of skeptisicm, "Sonnet will stay on his mission. He will hook up with you if possible. Stay on your toes, Eulogy, if they haven't frozen off already."

She smiled, filled with warm pride and eager for combat, oblivious to the cold. "I will."

He chuckled warmly on the other end. "Oh, and I have one more mission for you. A small one...but an important one."

* * *

Coruscant had once again fallen into darkness, but only from above. The street outside the Staggering Tusken was alive with lights and sounds, a plethora of activity. Aliens hustled from place to place, speeders sweeping in and out between the buildings, the alleys packed with nefarious characters engaged in activity outside the law. Rishi had to focus his awareness to its limits to keep his concentration on his task.

Having been the cause of great disturbance in the Staggering Tusken two nights ago, he'd thought it was wise not to show his face there again. The day that had passed Rishi had spent sitting on the rooftop of the adjacent building, meditating on the Force, keeping his senses alert for one presence, his face hidden beneath his hood. Among the different species he'd witnessed pass through the street below in the passing day, Bothans had been the minority. He'd seen two, neither of them Rarsk Dokyan, the one who allegedly had hired Wedder Dhohji to deliver the datacard to Master Skywalker.

There was a subtle vibration in the Force, one he had been unable to track to its source. He supposed it related to his Master, but he could not identify its nature. Master Skar was too far away, his presence in the Force alive, but slightly fading more and more into nothingness.

Rishi knew Master Skar was well, or at least still alive, but he could not connect with his Master. Praying silently, he hoped he was okay.

Rishi palmed his lightsaber, his nervous fingers eager for something to touch, eager for some kind of activity. The weapon was his most trusted ally, the symbol of his status, his power. But two nights ago it had symbolized another side of him. The rash, arrogant, impatient side of him. To a Kjoil those sides were not as threatening as it was to a Jedi, a Kjoil was free to feel those emotions, free to be human like any other, unmarred by its rules.

Rishi did not look down upon the Jedi for that matter, infact he only felt pity for them. And it perplexed him that someone as strong in the Force as Master Skywalker had not pointed out the _unfairness _of the way the Force challenged them. Master Skywalker admitted that he envied the Kjoil's freedom, but he also believed to be Jedi was a more rewarding effort. A Kjoil had no lines of conduct and were free to use its power undiminished, whereas a Jedi would have to earn its trust.

The lightsaber in his hands had taken lives in the service of the Force, but even he could feel the Force warning him at times, telling him that although the choice he'd made was possible, it was not condoned entirely by the Force. If a Jedi crossed the line, he fell ever closer to the Dark Side. To kill was never right, and only in times when another person's life was at stake was a Jedi or Kjoil permitted to take a life. But even before then a Knight would have to assess if it was infact the last option. To kill someone, however evil in nature the person might be, was wrong if it could have been avoided by simply thinking of a better solution.

Preservation of life was key.

Rishi's lightsaber was made of silver, not metal, and its handle was wrapped in tight leather strings for a better grip, only the tip of the blade emitter and the bottom, where the belt ring was attached, revealed its silver finish. Rishi thought the dual blade feature Master Skar had built into his weapon was less than admirable. Any true Knight, in his mind, could take on any enemy with just the one blade, two blades was overkill and arrogant. And Rishi also knew that Master Skar had not trained to use the both blades, he was remarkable with one, one of the greatest swordsman Rishi had ever met, but he was not as attuned to fighting with two blades at once.

It was excellent if one wished to surprise their enemy, but nothing more. Rishi preferred the one blade, a perfect civilized weapon that demanded respect and the best of one self, not as crude as a blaster. Rishi scorned blasters, he felt that anyone who thought of themselves as a warrior would prefer the sheer elegance of the cutting blade.

Rishi had trained his skills with the lightsaber under the tutorage of Master Skar and Master Skywalker, as well as his favorite fencing instructor, Jedi Knight Corran Horn. Rishi had only had the privilege of sparring with him on very few occasions, each of them when Rishi had come to Horn, asking the man to train with him.

Corran had chosen a dual phase lightsaber, a weapon in which the blade could double in length if needed. Rishi also frowned upon that feature, but unlike with Master Skar, Rishi had not pointed it out to Horn out of respect. With Master Skar he had not been afraid to voice his dislike to his Master's choices, but there was more distance between Horn and Rishi, they hadn't known each other well enough to reprimand each other or doubt one another.

Corran Horn was a great Jedi, Rishi thought, and he knew Master Skywalker treasured the man as a profoundly strong asset to the Jedi Order.

But there was an animosity between the few Jedi who knew of the Kjoil, himself and Skar. Luke had kept the information to a minimum between his acolytes. He didn't want the Jedi to be distracted by the thought of someone who, and Luke had admitted this, was more powerful than the Jedi. There was a gap between them. Master Skar had chosen to join the order but on his own premises, and those premises were so elaborate that Master Skar had absolutely no connection to the Jedi Order.

He stayed for himself, only as a counselor and a friend to Master Skywalker. It was a joke to say that Master Skar was apart of the Jedi Order, he was not. He just wanted people to think he was, while he stayed neutral and unattached to the Jedi.

Rishi had, after Master Skar's separation from the Jedi, trained under Master Skywalker learning almost more through him than he had through Master Skar. Master Skar was more of a father to him than a teacher, a mentor. Skywalker had been the one who'd given him most of his teachings, but they always conflicted with what he knew from Master Skar.

It was that conflict that had driven him to separation too, although not as strongly as Master Skar. Rishi had taken up the task of giving the people in the underground a light of hope, and Master Skywalker had condoned that path.

Rishi wondered if Master Skywalker still felt that way, he'd had been through a lot of negotiations and problems because of that permission in the past. The Senate did not approve of a rogue Jedi, tackling the problems they were supposed to deal with.

Master Skar and Rishi had also both drawn strict lines regarding the traditions of the Jedi. Master Skar never approved of wearing a Jedi's cloak and tunic, claiming he felt that clothes did not make a Jedi and that Jedi were negotiators, not soldiers. He didn't like the concept of uniforms, feeling it placed too much of a burden on his shoulders to live up to an ideal he had no intention of following.

Rishi didn't mind the uniform, although they could chafe sometimes, and he didn't feel restricted or burdened by it. Jedi apprentices in the Old Republic had cut their hair short to symbolize their apprenticeship; another tradition both Master Skar and himself didn't think was necessary.

All of these things Rishi had learned through his Master was not what a Jedi or a Kjoil was. And Master Skar even admitted that in the past during his training under Master Bo-Hi he'd cut his hair short and he'd also worn the tunic and cloak. But he'd learned too that it was not important for a Jedi or a Kjoil to follow these traditions in order to become a Knight. Commitment came from the heart, not from the clothes or hairstyle.

Rishi and Master Skar had also chosen not to imprint their family tree on their lightsabers. Master Skar had once owned the lightsaber of his famous uncle which had the engravings, but as he had said, the tree only reminded him of the past, and a Kjoil should always look to the future, something Rishi thought Master Skar could forget at times. It wasn't necessary to have a family tree nearby, through his training and accomplishments he would never forget where he came from. Master Skar's new lightsaber carried no tree.

The only Kjoil tradition Rishi and Master Skar had shared in common were the tattoos. Master Skar had given Rishi free choice to decide whether or not to have the elaborate Kjoil design etched into his skin. His Master had said he didn't want to force Rishi into doing something he would later regret, and that the tattoos themselves were just like the hairstyle and the clothes, only these you couldn't take off if you grew uncomfortable with them.

Master Skar had also pointed out that sometimes the tattoos worked only as a physical reminder of his duty, and that they sometimes made more anguish than pride in what they meant. But Rishi had gone along with it. He agreed that clothes, hairstyles, and drawing a family tree on the lightsaber were all pointless. It was supposed to symbolize who you were, but they were all things that could be lost or changed. A tattoo was forever, equal to the commitment of the Kjoil or the Jedi.

Rishi directed his eyes towards the skyline, finding a source of empowerment there almost as splendid as the Force, and nearly as simple and beautiful in its creation. Rishi closed his eyes, taking his senses beyond the rooftops and scattering his awareness over the entire planet, strengthening his resolve and quickening his understanding of his place in the universe.

Rishi's comlink buzzed suddenly but Rishi did not flinch, he'd felt the signal beaming to him seconds before it had connected with his comlink. Rishi exhaled calmly, keeping his eyes closed and maintaining his serenity, while his hands brought the comlink to his lips. A cold breeze in the warm night brought to his attention that it was bad news.

"Yeah?"

It was 2L. "That's no proper way to greet someone, Master Rishi!"

Rishi smiled faintly, the droid's programming for etiquette sometimes showed itself in the most unexpected places. "Sorry, 2L. What's on your mind?"

"Sir, I was wondering if you'd happened to hear about the news on the Holonet."

Rishi kept his calm. "What news?"

"It was a small report on a tragic accident in the lower levels, not far from where you are. I called primarily to confirm that you were not involved."

Rishi hadn't noticed any emergency klaxons or medical teams rushing by, not even someone from the fire control. But Coruscant was a big place. The lower levels spanned across the entire globe, but different regions of the planet had different local news stations. The report 2L had seen had to have been nearby. "I'm fine, 2L. Was anyone hurt in the accident?"

"That was the secondary reason for my contacting you. They identified the body of the man you went to see earlier."

Rishi's eyes snapped open and that cold wind passed over him again, through him. "Crip?"

"I believe that was the one, Crip Tyrral. They reported he'd been flying a speeder under the influence of alcohol and crashed his speeder into a low flying cargo-hauler."

Rishi felt remorse for a moment, then suspicion, then disbelief. "It doesn't sound like something he would do."

2L was quick to catch on. "Do you think he was killed, sir?"

"Maybe."

"And the accident was a cover-up?"

2L's mind was as sharp as his own. "Yeah, but why?" Rishi didn't feel any solutions, but it all seemed too coincidental to be true. "Why was such a tragic, but random, accident on the Holonet?"

2L didn't answer right away. "I have no idea, sir. Would you like me to contact the local Holonet service?"

For a minute there Rishi smiled when he imagined 2L calling up the local news network, demanding to know why such a small accident was on the news. Rishi rose up on his knees. "No, don't bother. I'll deal with it."

"Have you had any luck in your search?"

"No, its been two days and Rarsk still hasn't shown up."

"Maybe he is alerted to your investigation somehow? Afraid to show himself?"

Again Rishi felt that more laid beneath the surface than what he could see or feel. Something waiting to be exposed. Approaching slowly, but steadily under a cloak of deception. "I don't know. I'll call you when I find out more."

"Do be careful, Master Rishi."

Rishi smiled. "I'm always careful."

2L chuckled, the sound of his electronic voice very eerie. "I beg to differ! What about the time when Master Skar - " 2L continued to ramble for a long time and Rishi gave up listening very fast, but he allowed 2L to make his point, letting him finish, not wanting to interrupt the droid and make him think his opinions weren't wanted. 2L's almost human identity was rare and to lower him into nothing more than a droid might take away what made him so special. Rishi had never heard Master Skar cut 2L short or tell him to shut up. He was respected as an individual.

Albeit a very chatty individual.

Distracting him, a lonely figure came walking on the street below him. It was a blue-skinned Twi'lek, just like the bounty hunter in the Staggering Tusken the other night, only this one was female, and very attractive Rishi thought. He had no objections to two different species of people being involved, as long as their physical form didn't make for too much trouble. Twi'leks were just like humans except for the headtails.

Rishi ignored 2L's ranting and firmed his eyes on the slender beauty as she stopped to talk to someone outside the Tusken. Rishi thanked the stars that Jedi, or Kjoil for that matter, were no longer inhibited by the rules of the old Jedi Order. Attachment had been forbidden back then, the new Jedi Order did not follow that tradition. Master Skywalker had had several attachments, so did Corran Horn, and even Master Skar had been involved with two woman at different points in his life.

Rishi was no different, and he was no stranger to women or love. And seeing a beauty such as this one was too good to pass up. She was very slender, almost athletic, wearing tight smooth pants that complimented her perfect build. She wore a top made out of reptile skin, with no sleeves and a cleavage showing off just enough to attract attention without being over the top provocative.

Rishi had been staring at her for several minutes while she stood there, when he realized 2L was still going through the list of times he'd not been careful. And as he was about to defend himself, he noticed the woman turned around, her face sparkling and very alluring , and she looked right up at him.

She didn't look at the sky.

She looked directly into his eyes.

Rishi smelled trouble. And he felt it too, when the muzzle of a blaster pressed against the back of his neck. Allowing his attention to move away from the woman he felt the presence of some ten attackers backing up the one holding the blaster to his neck.

An ambush.

And the woman who'd supplied the diversion waved to him, with a very seductive smile on her face as she walked on down the street.

Rishi cursed himself.

"Get up!" someone snarled behind him.

Rishi didn't turn to look at his attacker, he merely opened his palm and tossed the would-be killer flying back across the rooftop. Rishi had his lightsaber in his hand and alive before he'd even turned around fully to block the shots coming at him. He settled for blocking the most dangerous ones, and when he could he back-flipped across the ledge of the roof and plummeted down towards the street. Deflecting shots while still in the air, Rishi slowed his descent with the Force and touched down unscathed.

The people on the street were taken aback by his sudden appearance and the lightsaber in his hands. He didn't want to stick around long enough to take care of each attacker, so he decided the best course of action would be to run.

He could feel his attackers pursuing him across the rooftops. They weren't going to let him get away, which told him that they were more than casual muggers. The woman they'd set up to distract him proved that point too. They were after him and even his lightsaber hadn't been enough to change their mind.

Rishi ducked into an alley, confident that he knew the streets well and that he knew where he was going. Occasionally avoiding a shot, he ran in and out of several alleyways, doing his best to make their pursuit more difficult. Bolts wheezed past his feet more than once, inducing him to change direction drasticly whenever they were close enough to take a shot.

After a while he confessed to himself that he no longer had any idea of where he was, he'd been too caught up in simply escaping that he'd neglected to plan ahead. He turned down another alley and believed to recognize the open space up ahead. As he cleared the alley he came into an old large space that occasionally hosted markets and fairs, a place that should have been alive with activity didn't have a single soul in sight.

But Rishi only noticed this as he was halfway across the market place, when attackers dropped out of every corner, doorway, and sewer-access. Rishi skidded to a halt and took in the faces of some twenty or thirty attackers of different species, like a ansemble of homicidal non-humans. They had him surrounded, and even with his lightsaber Rishi knew he was dead meat. It scarred him, this sort of planning was beyond the likes of lowly henchmen or muggers.

He tightened his grip on the handle, hoping that they needed him alive. That way he might have a chance for success. But then again _alive _could mean so many things.

One of the attackers, a Rodian with twin blasters, launched a volley of shots upon Rishi. Rishi directed the shots back at the shooter and bouncing two of the shots back to the attackers left and right of the shooter. Three down.

A Nikto behind him came charging with a spear, Rishi tossed his lightsaber into the air, caught it as it came back down with the blade reversed and stabbed it backwards beneath his armpit, catching the Nikto in the belly. The spear thrust uselessly past him as the Nikto dropped to the ground.

Before the next attack could come, Rishi pushed himself into a defensive motion, swirling the lightsaber with his right hand, the handle spinning between fingers, he spun endless elaborate circles around himself. The speed in which the blade moved created a shield around him that no bolt or staff could break. He became a whirlwind of motion and light, the hum of the lightsaber rising and rising in pitch, creating a wall of sound that drowned out any ambient noise or alien threat.

What might have seemed trained to perfection all flowed from the Force, Rishi was merely a conduit for its power. Rishi ended his dance in his defense stance, charged and ready for the next attack.

"Leave this place!"

Rishi looked over his shoulder, surprised to see someone new joining the fray. Luckily it seemed to be someone on his side, a Jedi by the look of the heavy cloak and sand colored tunic. The young man's short hair was jet black and though he didn't appear to be any older than Rishi himself, something suggested he wasn't a mere apprentice.

The man lifted his hand to take in all of the attackers. "I said; _leave_!" the words sounding much clearer now, almost too clear for normal people's ears. Rishi could feel the ripple produced in the Force by the man's attempt at a mind-trick but its affects on the crowd were not successful.

The riffraff looked at each other in confusion, completely unaffected by the suggestion, which made the new Jedi look rather ridiculous. Rishi couldn't explain why the Jedi's attempt hadn't worked, but decided it could wait until later.

The attackers were ganging up on him, cornering him in the market place, taking no notice of the other Jedi.

Behind him, Rishi heard the Jedi's boots crunch pebbles as he came walking up to join him in fighting off this pocket of muggers. Two of the attackers walked off to intercept him before he could get to Rishi. Rishi kept his blue blade in front of him, wary of any new attacks, while keeping an eye out for the Jedi. If he couldn't produce a convincing mind-trick to settle these guys, Rishi had his doubts if the man's fighting skills would be of any use.

The two Rodians, clutching axes in their hands, were almost upon the Jedi now and he was still walking towards them, unmoved by their advance. The Rodian on the right made the first move, he lifted his axe up to the sky and came running forward, intending to hack the Jedi into pieces.

As the Rodian's axe began to fall from over his head, the Jedi side-stepped, produced a lightsaber out of nowhere and sliced through the Rodian's midsection with his blue blade as the axe buried itself into the street's surface. The other Rodian was already in its own momentum to attack, coming in with a wide sloppy across the chest move with the way too heavy axe, too late to stop its pull on him. The Jedi leaped over the axe and the Rodian, coming down behind the alien, with a single eloquent move he reverted his blade and buried the tip of his blade in the Rodian's spine, leaving it sprawled over its own axe.

Then the Jedi reasserted himself, with the blade casually at his side.

_Must be one of Skywalker's wannabes. Rodians with axes are one thing, but some of these guys have blasters._

Two more broke off to deal with the new Jedi threat, one Trandoshan, twirling some kind of spear in his hands, and a Duros with blasters in both hands. The Duros' blasters mouthed off, but the Jedi sent the bolts right back at him, destroying one of the blasters and leaving the Duros with a burnt hand. The other blaster was tossed away and the alien ran for his life.

The Trandoshan came in with a long straight-forward lunge of the spear but the Jedi swirled to his left as the reptilian alien missed its target. For a second Rishi saw the Trandoshan's back was wide open for a slash from the Jedi's lightsaber, but the Jedi, favoring immobilization to needless killings, slammed the hilt of his lightsaber into the back of the Trandoshan's skull, dropping the alien onto the street, out cold.

The entire mob began to take notice of the second Jedi now and started blasting away at him, while Rishi continued to back down the nearest alley. The Jedi leapt out of the blastershots and landed next to Rishi, joining him in blocking the onslaught of blaster bolts.

Together they backed down the alley, their swords deflecting the onslaught shots raining down upon them, neither of them sparing a second to check on each other. Immediately their actions melded, a companionship arising between them, as they began to rely on each other for safety, their minds working as one. The further down the alley they got, the more shots flew at them, and Rishi knew they couldn't keep up the blocking for long. More importantly the alley seemed to end in a brick wall, leaving their choices very limited.

"We need an escape route!" the Jedi shouted over the roar of blaster-fire.

Rishi stared at the Jedi with repulsion. "No, we can take these guys!" He couldn't have done it alone, but with the Jedi helping him the odds had changed. He didn't like leaving unfinished business.

The Jedi's calm face contrasted Rishi's desperation. "Maybe _you _can, but your arrogance won't be the final chapter of my life. I came to help you."

Rishi scowled. "I don't need you!" he said, knowing it wasn't the full truth.

The Jedi laughed warmly. "Spoken like a true Kjoil. "

"You know me?"

The Jedi deflected a shot at his feet, then moved the blade back up to ward off two aimed at his chest in one stroke. "I was sent to take you back."

Rishi made a brilliant display on his own end; pushing himself into an unstoppable display of lightsaber acrobatics. With one hand on the hilt his blade flowed in endless circles, while his other hand unleashed varieties of Force powers upon the oncoming mob, the sheer tension flowing through him removed him from the realities of the fighting. "Sent by who?"

"Master Skywalker." The Jedi looked over his shoulder to see the wall behind them. There was nowhere left to go. "Look, can we focus on the immediate problem before diving into another? We have to get out of here."

Rishi cursed. The Jedi had saved his life and Rishi himself had to admit that things were beyond his control. Without the Jedi this might be his final stand. _Obviously one of Skywalker's better incarnations. _"Alright, alright. What do you suggest?"

The Jedi looked around for options. Then he turned to Rishi, his face and voice very direct. "These men don't need to die. We should focus on escaping."

Rishi nodded, but he hadn't obtained what he wanted. "I came down here for information about this new terrorist group that's been threatening the Republic; the Sons of Destiny, I think these guys might know something."

The Jedi returned to deflecting the shots, his movements very clear and precise. "What do you want to do? Take them all prisoners?" The Jedi snorted. "These men were sent to kill you. This isn't a casual mugging. This is their job."

Rishi agreed. "So one of them must know something."

"If we get one of them alive, we might just find out what." The Jedi searched the rooftops over his head. "Up there."

Rishi nodded. "You go first."

The Jedi walked up behind him and took one powerful jump straight up that only got him halfway up the wall, but more than enough for him to reach the ledge, and from there onto a ladder which took him to the roof. Rishi noticed how the Jedi seemed to have more experience with the lightsaber than with his mind-tricks and assisted jumping. Dodging blasts and ricocheting bolts off the walls with his lightsaber, Rishi began to feel the weariness in his wrists and hands from the deflecting. He was all alone now, the Jedi couldn't provide him with any help or protection from up there.

Delving into the Dark Side to provide him with a great solution to the problem, he created an energy surge inside himself and then he moved beyond himself out towards the group of attackers, channeling his connection to the Force through him, and releasing its energy in the shape of a horizontal whirlwind. It brushed up against the group, severing down their middle, launching them up against the walls, rendering most of them incapacitated or with injuries.

Concentrating the energy Rishi wrapped an invisible fist around one of the assailants, lifting him off the ground. Thinking no more of it, Rishi launched himself straight up, ignoring the ledge and the ladder, and landed safely on the roof.

A second later the prisoner came tumbling down onto the roof surface. The subject was a young Trandoshan, out cold for the moment, but otherwise healthy. Rishi put away his lightsaber and saw the disapproving scowl on the second Jedi's face.

"Come on, you said it yourself we should take one of them alive." Rishi didn't feel like explaining his actions to the Jedi, and he especially didn't like the idea of the Jedi thinking he even had a say in how things were done. This was _his _investigation.

"Not a child," the Jedi countered as he put away his lightsaber.

"The moment you pick up a gun and start aiming at people, you can't expect people to go easy on you."

"He's barely twenty."

"Which makes him only a few years younger than me; and look at what I have to deal with."

The Jedi frowned. "That's very simple-minded of you."

"Listen, I don't know what I'm dealing with here. I took this one because he would be easiest to scare into talking. I could get one of the others and we could spend hours torturing him, or we could use this one; which will it be?"

The Jedi said nothing more on the matter, but his dissaproving frown stayed in place. "Bring him. I've got a speeder not too far from here."


	4. New Allies And Old Enemies

Inside Mount Lori the small crippled insertion team had set up camp momentarily at an intersection of tunnels. The half-finished corridors of the would-be shelter had walls in some areas and lacking in others, pipes and thick wires lacing the floor, which also only existed partly. Lighting was not yet up, but the soldiers had placed several small light projectors here and there to give some illumination.

At present the three soldiers, Stix, Salvor and Call, sat in as much of a circle as they could produce, while the Jedi, Jarod, sat at the mouth of the tunnel they'd come through, seemingly lost in his own little world while they went through their information packages. The pilot was fast asleep in a corner.

A small holographic projector placed in their center displayed various images and documents regarding the planet and its current situation. Memorizing schematics of the repair yard and its weaknesses, the three soldiers exchanged opinions and formulated a plan. The repair yard had two power sources, both of which they planned to shut down, leaving their orbital defenses out of function, opening them up for an assualt from space.

The shortage of power would also blacken the entire station, depriving the enemy of lights and communication.

Once that was accomplished, leaving the repair yard unable to restore power, they would evacuate, and wait for back-up in the form of more Republic troops from Coruscant. There was no way they could take out the entire army if it proved necessary. They would have to draw the army into the open, on the snow plains and take them out in a surface attack.

The plan was full of holes, but it was the best they had. But before trying to get the repair yard they had to hook up with the reconnaisance team, if they were still alive. Even if they weren't, gear and intel left behind might prove valuable to their mission.

But that part of the mission relied on the RATM, without it they couldn't find the recon team. And they needed Kast to find the RATM.

Stix looked over his shoulder at the Jedi and then back at his teammates. "What's with this guy?"

Salvor glanced at the Jedi's back. "He's Jedi, they're strange. Don't try understanding them."

Call hugged his rifle to his chest. "He's in charge now?"

Salvor, the leader of the team, raised his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?"

"He's a Jedi...they're usually - "

"I don't care what they usually are," Salvor stated firmly, "this is a joint effort. We're lucky to have him, he saved our lives."

Stix, the hothead of the group, looked over his shoulder again. "Guys, what's keeping Kast? Aren't scouts usually supposed to be ahead of the rest?"

Salvor turned off the projector, dampening the light around them significantly. "Kast can handle himself."

Call shook his head. "Without him we're going to - "

" - have to elect the new best looking."

All three soldiers turned in their seating to see Kast crouched down in one of the tunnels, his face blue almost to the point of frozen. Behind him hovered the small saucer-like RATM, its small lights scanning everything. He held his rifle up, aimed beyond them.

Aimed at the Jedi.

Jarod slowly stood and faced the four of them, keeping his eyes on Kast.

Salvor rose from the floor, standing in the line of fire, and pointed a finger at Kast's rifle. "Explain yourself, Kast."

Kast's knees slowly extended, raising him to full height, his aim fixed on the Jedi. "I found Dasan."

Jarod's eyes squinted. "And?"

Kast's jaw trembled. "I found Dasan's body sat upright against a wall of ice, his legs buckled up beneath him. He'd been sliced open like a can, his rips were bent inward, burned, his entrails frozen solid in the cold. The wound was cauterized. He was taken by surprise."

Jarod shifted his head to look at the sleeping pilot, pondering something. "The pilot must've known about this. One of the rest of you told him. But he never said it was the work of a lightsaber." Jarod looked Salvor in the eyes. "Why didn't he?"

Salvor didn't answer, and kept his back to the Jedi.

The mechnical hum of the droid hovering behind Kast lended its own atmosphere to the tense situation.

Jarod looked at the other soldiers. "You thought I did it."

Kast still stared at Skar, his eyes hard and searching. "Did you?"

Jarod shook his head. "No."

Kast breathed shallowly. "Dasan was my friend. The wound began at his belly and moved upwards. You can tell because the area where the wound begins is burnt more than the area by his throat. It came from below and exited above."

Jarod seemed to make something of that little piece of information. "Its called the Ascending Star. Its a Jedi move, an old one though."

Jarod tightened his grip on the rifle. "You didn't answer my question," Kast said. "Did you do him in?"

Jarod sighed. "Why would I do that?"

Kast shrugged. "I don't know. A pity that the lightsaber wound doesn't leave off a color from the blade that did it."

Jarod held out his hands. "I had nothing to do with it. I asked to see the body because everyone made such a big deal about it. I wanted to know why." The Jedi ran his palm over his beard. "Now I know."

Kast looked at his teammates. "The Republic must've had a reason for sending a Jedi. They must have been expecting something like this. No matter what Red thought there are not many who can stand up to a Jedi."

Jarod nodded. "You're almost right. The terrorists are led by someone I knew a long time ago."

Salvor finally looked back at the Jedi. "Someone you knew?"

Jarod nodded. "A…friend. I volunteered to come here because I might be the only one who could stop him."

Kast's body stiffened and a look of betrayal washed over his face, his jaw tightening. "What about us? Were we just along as a decoy?"

Jarod shook his head. "You were sent as the main assault force, officially I'm not even here. Skywalker thought I might have better luck with your team around."

Stix stood up. "Wait a minute. The Republic doesn't know you're here?"

"No."

"Why not?" Call asked.

Jarod exhaled. "Its a long story, alright?"

Salvor turned back to Kast. "Lower your weapon, that's an order. He was with us the entire time and he's saved us more than once. If he wanted to betray us he had plenty of chances."

Kast's rifle started to shake in his hands but it didn't lower.

"Now, soldier!"

Kast's hands slowly lowered the weapon, his face filled with defiance. Strapping his rifle over his shoulder he nodded to the RATM, which instantly began displaying its recordings of the repair yard.

"Here's what we found."

Laid out in a green virtual simulation the base looked like a fortified castle, not a repair yard. The entire station was built almost like a circle, dozens of buildings surrounding other buildings. The outer ring of buildings were all hangars, where they repaired damaged ships. The inner ring was living quarters, storage bays and command stations, while in the center of both rings the control center laid.

A huge building towering over the outer rings, but having no real other purpose than housing the main generator. The yard looked like a city inself, but there were no streets or constructed pavement on the surface surrounding the buildings, although there might have been but was now covered in snow.

And while the display showed the buildings, it didn't show many entry points.

Tracker had also spotted what it had called a "scrap yard" on the other side of the repair yard. Its cameras had showed them something that had once been very large ships, but now gutted and looked more like skeletons, rotting corpses in the snowy terrain. The hulls had been peeled off cleanly and the remnants of the ships had been lying outside so long that were no longer any tracks to be seen.

Kast thought it was odd, but he'd seen stranger things in his days.

Salvor whistled. "I'll tell ya, if the Republic ever decides to move shop, this place would work. Its hard to believe this is just a repair yard, a civilian base."

Jarod almost smiled. "This wasn't always a Republic repair yard, you know?"

Salvor's eyes hardened. "No, I didn't know."

"Oh," he said, not sounding the slightest bit surprised.

Kast felt slightly annoyed by the response. They should cut the small talk and keep their attention on things at hand. He suspected the Jedi was withholding because the information had merits. Something about the station gnawed at him. "What was it before?"

Jarod crossed his arms. "A long time ago this was an Imperial base."

Kast hadn't seen that one coming. But looking at the station again, he began to see why it looked so...out of place. It definitely matched designs of buildings on Coruscant, where most of the buildings left were infact constructed by Imperial architects. "Why did the Republic turn an old Imperial stronghold into a repair yard?"

"Good question," Jarod remarked, "an even better one would be why the Republic went so much out of their way to station it so far from the Core. We're practically in the Unknown Regions as it is. On the border. This is Outer Rim territories. The only thing close is Belkadan and Bastion."

"Bastion is the Empire's capital," Call pointed out.

"Exactly."

Stix looked at Jarod. "You think the Empire staged this assault?"

Jarod shook his head. "No. Why would they? The Empire is all but gone, only a few admirals remain. They wouldn't, couldn't, do anything like this. Right now Imperial loyalists are pleading for a voice in the Senate, doing something like this doesn't exactly help their chances."

Salvor raised an eyebrow. "The Empire is fractured. This could be the work of a small faction."

"A small faction wouldn't last a second against a Republic fleet." Kast raised his chin. "Except if they had something that convinced them they would win."

Jarod knelt down by the holo. "You're missing the bigger question. Why did the Republic set up a repair yard this far out? There are no real enemies out here. Most of the ships in Republic are too far away to ever consider this place as a possibility if they ever needed repairs."

Salvor scratched his head. "Maybe it was built in case a Republic ship should ever find it way out this far and need repairs? You know, in case a ship was nearby this place."

Jarod smiled, but there was something lurking beneath that smile. "You give the Republic too much credit. They're not all goodie-goodie. Try thinking as a soldier." Jarod held out his hand towards the station. "What strategic benefit does this place have?"

Each soldier envisioned the galactic map in front of his inner eye.

"It does create some good chances to ambush the Empire," Call tried.

Salvor added. "I heard this place had been teeming with business, from High Command. But there are no warships nearby or even any battles that would suggest this place would have any kind of activity."

Kast found it hard to keep up with all the detective work Jarod had thrown at them. "You think…they're massing a fleet to start an assault on the Empire?"

"Finish them off for good?" Jarod thought about it but shook off the idea. "It would look like something the Republic could think of, but with all the senators running the Republic these days, that sort of thing would have to have been covered up real good. The Senate wouldn't approve. And the Republic would never do anything so risky. The Senate would dissolve in seconds and it would destroy the Republic. No, its not like that. And I don't think it has anything to do with massing a fleet, either."

"But something is going on," Call said. "Someone is sending Republic ships here to be refitted."

The Jedi's face was cold with dread all of sudden. "Maybe they're not here to be refitted. Maybe they're dropping something off?" Jarod sat up. "One of the members of the High Command asked if there was anything being built here, like a superweapon. There are many research and development stations around. We were reassured this place wasn't housing anything like that."

Salvor frowned. "But why would the Republic be building anything like a superweapon? I thought they learned that lesson with the Death Star, and the Sun Crusher."

"Not to mention the Darksaber," Kast said.

Call frowned. "I thought people were smarter than that."

Kast took his eyes off the station and turned them to Jarod instead. "You knew all this information, and I had to drag it out of you."

Jarod looked up at each of them. "Listen, even I don't know what it means. It could be nothing. This is combat, all my senses are alive and I won't take anything for granted. The Republic are people, just like the Empire was. To me, the only thing that separates them is motive." Jarod's words sounded reasonable enough. "Maybe the Republic finally found a motive, a reason, that would make it necessary for them to create a little backup insurance, in case hell froze over."

Kast turned his eyes back towards the station. "I wish we knew more about what kind of ships that have been through here. And how many. At least then we could make a reasonable theory. All we have is bits of data that don't match up."

Jarod nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. "Yeah," he said slowly, "sounds fishy."

Kast couldn't let go of the superweapon theory. "Maybe the terrorists knew something was here and the Republic sent us to pull the lid on them. Keep the knowledge from spreading."

"To keep it from the public, you mean," Salvor's voice was dark and somewhat mixed with contempt.

"Right," Kast confirmed.

Jarod shrugged. "The Republic isn't much for change, though it certainly could use one. A big one."

Kast found himself conspiring against the Republic, his home, his family. But somehow, with what he'd learned, he couldn't turn back from the fact that something was very wrong with this setup. "You have no love for the Republic, do you?"

Jarod shook his head. There was no doubt. "No love, only loyalty. One of my…friends said that the Republic is too busy fighting in the Senate over petty differences to ever fully understand what kind of responsibility they have to the Galaxy. Like I said, the only thing that separates the Republic and the Empire is motive."

Kast found himself agreeing with Jarod. "If the Republic knew the kind of damage it might do to their position as a superpower to build a superweapon, they must really be worried about something. I mean its one hell of a risk to take. Something must've spooked them good." Kast looked down into his hands, conscious of a big change in him. "I've been on hundreds of missions, but this is the first time I've ever thought about what I was really doing."

Call nodded. "I feel the same way. Starting to think about what I was maybe helping others do."

Jarod smiled at them. "Feels good, doesn't it? Feels like you're really involved. Feels like you can make a difference."

Salvor still wasn't comforted. "If you're right about the Republic being scared, you have to consider what might do that to a government that big."

"Something that would disrupt their position," Stix established. "A real threat."

"Something big, something we've never seen before. Something hidden," Jarod's face was grim, "an invasion. Something with enough clout to terminally tip the balance of things."

"Invasion?" Kast asked. "By who?"

Jarod rose. "Certainly not the Empire, and I'm willing to bet that these Sons Of Destiny have nothing to do with it either. The universe is vast and infinite. There are many places a threat could come from. We only know about a small portion, merely a fraction of what exist in our world, our time." Jarod stopped talking and looked back down at the station with skepticism emitting from his eyes. "Hundred hostages sounds like a bit much."

"What?" Salvor asked.

"The repair yard is big, I'll give them that. But the Sons of Destiny claimed they had over a hundred hostages. The repair yard doesn't need a hundred men to keep it running."

"Maybe pilots from the outside, from those ships that are coming through?" Stix put in.

Jarod nodded. "We may have to question one of the hostages to find out what was really going on. Why there's been so much traffic."

Kast thought back. "When we came in, there were only a small patrol of starfighters to protect this station from an attack from space. No cruisers."

Jarod kept his eyes on the station. "Maybe they're still waiting for their own fleet to arrive. Looks like they've set up a few armaments against such an attack on top of some of the buildings."

Salvor nodded. "We plan to take those out."

Kast nodded to Tracker which scrolled through the images. The droid flipped through the images of the stripped ships on the ground again. "What do you make of this?"

Jarod shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe they need material for something inside."

Kast had thought the same thing. "This supposed superweapon?"

"Maybe, or maybe they're just rebuilding the yard, securing breaches in security." Jarod frowned sourly. "Maybe they're just bored."

Kast laughed quietly, and then thought of something else, something a little more relevant. "Remember you said the Republic didn't know you were here? That means the Republic never intended to send a Jedi."

"That's right," Jarod said with a confused look.

"But when the ship went down, we were lucky to have survived."

Salvor looked up at the Jedi. "Yeah, we wouldn't have survived if you hadn't been there. We should have been dead, but you saved us. If the Republic supposedly sent me and my team to…stop whatever was going on here, and you sneaked onboard, what does that say of the Republic's effort?"

Jarod's face didn't hint at any surprise. "You think they intended for your team not to make it? But why?"

Salvor shrugged. "At least then they could say that they tried sending in a rescue team. But if they think we're dead, if they didn't plan on us making it, they'll have to find another way. I think they'll send a fleet here to destroy the station."

"Sacrificing the hostages," Call pointed out.

Jarod didn't look particularly surprised. "You think the rescue mission was planned to fail?"

Salvor held out his hands. "It would give them an excuse for trying, now nothing can hold them back from destroying this place."

Jarod almost looked angry. "Removing the evidence." He frowned. "And us. We'll talk about it later. For now we don't know what the Sons of Destiny want. We only know they're here and they have hostages. That's our mission."

Kast agreed. "But we'll keep our theories in the backs of our heads, right?"

Jarod smiled like a predator. "Of course. Pessimism will keep you alive."

Kast sighed, but a sarcastic smile moved over his lips. "Yeah, but with optimism at least I'll have a smile on my face when I go."

Salvor looked to Kast. "Have you tried contacting the recon team?"

The young soldier shook his head. "No, I decided against communicating at all, in case anyone was listening in."

Salvor nodded towards the RATM. "I think its time we tried."

Call stepped forward. "Why haven't they tried contacting us?"

"Because they're dead," Stix stated coldly.

"Maybe," Jarod said, not discounting the fact, "but we need to make sure."

Kast shifted his boots. "They didn't reply. No one's heard from them. They must be dead already."

"Or they may be alive," Jarod said, "like us. If we're lucky there still might be some communications-equipment or at least information from the last week that we can use. Its a worthy goal."

Kast still didn't like it. "Why would you want communications equipment?"

Jarod's blue eyes were sparkling with confidence. "To let Coruscant know that we're still alive and that we will complete our mission."

Salvor crossed his arms. "Do you honestly think we stand a chance?"

"Maybe, maybe not. You all need to get ahead of yourself. Focus. You came here to do something." Jarod's face expression became more thoughtful. "The Republic will not stand for the kind of terrorist act the Sons of Destiny have pulled here. If the Sons of Destiny are trying to liberate the Galaxy from the New Republic, they're going to have a hard time about it. Coruscant would rather sacrifice the hostages than let a small group of terrorist overrun their rule. It all depends on us, we've sworn allegiance to the New Republic. Like it or not, we can't back out on them now."

Kast agreed. "Tracker has the best range. I'll take him outside for a better signal."

Jarod nodded. "I'll join you."

Kast wasn't too keen on that. "Why?"

Jarod smiled slyly and looked around at Kast's teammates. "Because you don't trust me enough to leave me here, do you?"

The rest of the soldiers chuckled.

Kast bit back his anger. "Let's go."

* * *

Rishi Kjoil sat in the backseat next to the small Trandoshan youngling while the Jedi Knight flew the speeder, a crisp new model, so clean and undamaged that Rishi suspected it to be no more than a day or two old. The small Trandoshan was whimpering like the child it was, not like the merciless killer it had been earlier, which put Rishi on edge. He'd snatched the kid because he figured it would have been easier to coax information out of it, but every time he talked to the alien it started crying and sometimes even screamed, a very high-pitched animal scream.

Rishi had given up and now concentrated himself on the Force for patience, preparing himself to go at it again.

The Jedi flew with diamond-like precision, swooping in and out of the lanes at rocket speed with a grace that made him one of the best drivers Rishi had ever flown with. That said, the man still looked uncomfortable behind the controls and that worried Rishi.

"I thought Luke was out of touch?" Rishi said loudly over the noise of swooping traffic.

"He is."

"So how'd he contact you?"

The Jedi looked over his shoulder and grinned. "The usual channels."

The Force was what he meant. Rishi reached out to the Jedi with his own Force, but could read nothing off the mind of the Jedi, nor did he sense the Jedi was aware of his probing. The man was sealed up tight. The kind of steel mind Rishi had only sensed in few people with Force potential.

But Rishi still felt the man to be nothing more than a rookie at the Force, he'd shown great promise with a lightsaber, but his telekinesis and mind-trick skills needed improving. He was well gifted in concentration and great with a lightsaber, yet he was nowhere near through his training.

"Who trained you?"

The Jedi dodged an incoming speeder at the last minute, looping the speeder around, almost throwing Rishi out of his seat, and made his stomach churn.

"What?" the Jedi asked.

"Who trained you!" Rishi repeated.

Rishi could see how the Jedi's face changed in the reflective screen. He went from concentrated to anxious, almost painfully self-conscious. "No one you would know."

Rishi frowned. "I know most of the Jedi Masters in the Order."

The Jedi dove the speeder down beneath an oncoming group of taxis and then straightened the speeder out. "Like people know about the Kjoil?"

It was an attack more than an answer. Rishi knew how undisclosed the existence of the Kjoil were inside the Jedi Order. Maybe the Kjoil weren't the only additions to the Order that stayed concealed. Rishi frowned even more. He thought he was special. But then again, wasn't every Jedi special?

"What's your name?"

"Kal - " the Jedi managed to say before having to put the speeder into a vertical plunge, deep into the mix of the other vehicles, as a recklessly speeding driver swooshed over their heads. The Jedi eased the speeder back up and finished his sentence, " - Kal Ulani."

It didn't sound familiar. Not even the last name, which told him he was not the second generation of a Jedi in the Order, though such were scarce.

"Never heard of you."

The Jedi Knight chuckled. "Until today I hadn't heard of you either," his voice changed from playful to more serious, "I guess we have at least one thing in common."

But was it a good thing to have in common, Rishi asked himself. "We both like our privacy."

The Jedi Knight, Kal Ulani, laughed more lightly this time. "We can get touchy-feely later. How's the interrogation going?"

Interrogation sounded rather harsh to Rishi. He didn't see the youngling as a prisoner and he planned to let the little one go once they'd found out what they needed to know. Maybe it was the age thing that bothered Kal. Rishi turned his attention towards the young scaly reptile alien. Then he reached out to the Force, placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and soothed his fear with the Force.

"Do not be afraid."

The young boy's reptile-like eyes opened, the tears almost gone, and looked out at the city, looking more like a curious young boy who saw the metropolis for the first time from this high. Rishi kept the boy's fear at bay, his worries and his anger. And in doing so he managed to retrieve the part of the alien that was still young and innocent. The boy smiled at the passing traffic, and Rishi knew his work was done.

He settled into his seat better and drew the attention of the boy to himself. The eyes blinked and then the boy gave Rishi his full concentration, no longer seeing the evil man who had killed his friends and kidnapped him.

"Your name is Trass, right?"

The alien nodded, the full head movement of a child.

"What can you tell me about the men who attacked me?"

The alien began blabbing everything it knew, in more detail than Rishi would have expected from such a young boy. Even illustrating some events in hand movements. The only problem was that it was doing it in its own language.

"Wow, slow down! Do you speak Basic?"

The boy answered but Rishi guessed the answer was no, since he still didn't understand a word coming out the boy's mouth.

Cursing, Rishi threw his hands into the air. "Great!"

"Hold on!" Kal shouted, seconds before pulling the speeder straight up, increasing the speed as the vertical vehicle began to feel more like it was heading for atmosphere than heading somewhere on this planet. Rishi was pounded back into his seat, and he supported Trass against the seating. Up ahead Rishi saw dozens of starships moving along in their designated safe lanes, while Kal bore down on them with suicide speed.

"What are you doing!" Rishi shouted over the roar of the speeder's engine.

"We're being followed!"

Rishi looked behind him, which was actually beneath him, and saw two speeders breaking off the trail they'd been on before and taking up pursuit. And adding to the scare, Rishi realized they weren't speeders. They were Headhunters, a multi-purpose starfighter. Rishi didn't know much about this particular fighter other than the Z-95 Headhunter was largely recognized as the premiere starfighter of its era, and the forerunner of the incredibly successful X-wing. He didn't know anything else, but he already knew what mattered the most.

This was bad.

"Kal, they're starfighters!"

Confirming it, lines of red began blasting past them, flying harmlessly by as Kal's expert skills brought them through the growing mass of ships without much difficulty. The fighters however were even more maneuverable and seemed to have no problems keeping up, dodging in between the larger ships around them, while repeatedly blasting with their blaster cannons. Kal's driving was keeping them safe for now, but it wouldn't last long before those fighters got in a lucky shot, and in a speeder like the one they were in, one shot was all it would take.

Trass had already dropped himself down to the floor-panels of the speeder while Rishi kept himself down behind the seating, red beams of light flashing everywhere, as well as the very chaotic driving by Kal. He couldn't find one good thing about the situation he was in, other than the fact that it didn't seem long before it would all be over.

"Get us out of here!" Rishi shouted.

"Why didn't I think of that!" Kal replied sarcastically, his hands working the controls. Kal brought the speeder in close with a lane of very large transports, hiding the tiny speeder gradually in between the mammoth ships, but it was a technique Rishi knew wouldn't last forever. They were horribly disadvantaged against the starfighters which had both speed and weapons on their side.

Rishi looked down at his lightsaber, realizing it was worthless in a situation such as this. He might be able to block some of the fire, but that was it. More than ever he wished to be back on Draori, his primitive bow in hands. He'd been a great shot with the bow, the best among the refugees, and right now he'd trade it for the lightsaber. The arrows might not do much good though he gathered, if the fighters were using their shields.

"Do you know some place safe?" the Jedi Knight asked over his shoulder.

Rishi couldn't think of any place they could hide from the starfighters. It was always so much easier underground. Man to man fighting, not starfighter versus speeder, was much better. "No, we can't outrun them."

The Jedi swooped past a transport, so close Rishi could see people moving around inside the bridge as they flew by. "Maybe we can outgun them."

"With what?"

Rishi could see the Jedi smiling in the windshield. "A New Republic assault frigate."

Rishi laughed. "And where do you plan on finding one of those?"

The Jedi looped the speeder horizontally and brought it out into the middle of the traffic lane, red darts of fire whistling past them, and pounded on the throttle. Rishi had to sit up from the backseat to see what the man was doing. Straight ahead, directly in their path was the frigate Rishi guessed the Jedi was talking about. Heading straight for them.

"That's suicide!"

The Jedi kept his course, bearing down on the frigate, aiming right for the bridge section of the giant vessel.

"Break away!" Rishi shouted.

But to no avail, the Jedi only increased the throttle to maximum. Trass on the floor started crying again, adding to the millions of sounds around them, but none of them enough to drown out the horror and curses going through Rishi's mind. Either the Jedi was very smart or very, very stupid, and Rishi voted for the latter since his plan didn't seem to include being able to walk away alive afterwards.

Behind them the two fighters eased into attack formation, their cannons spraying red lightning at them, gaining on them. Rishi could hear them getting closer, could feel their presence growing more and more intense.

And then more lights began dancing around them as the frigate began blasting its turrets at the small speeder heading for them at an insane speed. Merely protecting themselves from the rampaging small speeder on its way to make a permanent dent in their hull. The space around them was filled with red and green rays of death coming from separate directions, both parties trying to wape the single kamikaze speeder.

Rishi clawed his hands into the armrest. "Whatever you're gonna do, do it now!"

And up they went, Kal lifted the nose of the speeder, flying straight up, while the two fighters behind them continued on their course, unable to break away. The first fighter broke hard left, almost saving it except for a nasty shot from the frigate which scorched one of its wings into molten metal. The second fighter had time to get clear, but in descending beneath the frigate the fighter rammed straight into a freighter flying below it.

The fighter slammed into the hull of the freighter, exploding in dozens of pieces that bounced back and forth between the frigate and the freighter before dissolving into nothing but flaming debris.

Rishi swallowed the taste of vomit he had in his mouth and checked behind them. The fighter that had flown into the freighter was no more, yet the other fighter was still alive, though spiraling endlessly down into the rest of the traffic, smoke trailing behind it. As Rishi watched, the cockpit section exploded and out jumped the pilot, plummeting to his death.

_He'd been better off dying with the ship._

But then flames erupted from the falling man, slowing his descent and soon he began to fly upwards, jetting around and coming back towards them, a single flame of exhaust behind him.

A jetpack.

"We're not safe yet!" Rishi shouted back to Kal, as the man rocketed towards them. Rishi got to his feet and ignited his blade, ready to fend off the rocket man. Salves of blaster bolts preceded the flying man, and Rishi parried them all with effortless care. It took a very good shooter to hit a speeder while flying with a jetpack, and Rishi was amazed by the accuracy of the fire.

Rishi blocked some of the shots back at the man, but it was pointless, the man moved too much, back and forth, up and down, to have any chance of getting rid of him that way.

"Why are they after us!" the Jedi shouted.

"I was trying to track down an informant called Rarsk Dokyan," Rishi yelled back, in between protecting the speeder from the well-aimed shots with his lightsaber, "but I'm starting to think he's looking for me too!"

"Track him down for what?"

"I believe he's holding information about the terrorists group that's been threatening the Republic, the ones who bombed the Senate!" Rishi ricocheted a bolt with his blade, and then another, but had no luck in hitting the rocket man with his own shots. "He's the one who delivered the message to the Holonet about the occupancy."

The Jedi frowned. "Great. Just wanted to make sure I'm wasn't going to die because of something unimportant."

Rishi had time for a quick smile.

The rocket man was getting more and more close to the speeder, so close that Rishi could spot more details about the man. It was then he felt a chill run down his spine like no other.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said to no one in particular.

Mandalorian armor.

"Its Boba Fett!" Rishi shouted, the level of fear in his voice so clear even he could hear it.

"Nice of him to drop by," Kal shouted back sarcastically. "Take him out!"

Easier said than done, Rishi thought. Dressed in armor that could be traced back 4,000 years, when clans of Mandalores fought against the Jedi during the Great Sith War, Fett swirled back and forth behind them, blasting away with his twin blasters.

The name Fett carried with it a cold air of competence and nightmares, even for those with a clear conscience. Fett was covered in a sleek armored suit that concealed an arsenal of weaponry, including retractable wrist blades, rocket darts launcher, flame-throwers, and a snare. Even his jetpack carried an explosive rocket ready to be fired when needed. Fett was known as the Galaxy's best bounty hunter, and having heard rumors and stories about the man, Rishi knew that reputation was deserved. No one had ever escaped Fett, and once he was on your trail you might as well start writing your will.

"Persistent, isn't he?" the Jedi remarked

Fett hammered the speeder with deadly bolts at such speed that Rishi had a hard time keeping track of all of them. Rishi chose to spend his strength primarily on those that were lethal to either him or his companions, or the engine of the speeder for that matter. Rishi sighed to himself when he realized that meant all of them.

"Can't we outfly him?" Rishi shouted.

"Not in this traffic," Kal retorted.

"Great," Rishi muttered to himself and concentrated fully on the armored hunter pursuing them through some of Coruscant's thickest traffic. Rishi knew the man had an advantage to him, the helmet and armor he was wearing was packed with motion and sound sensors, making it easy for him to fly in this traffic without having to concentrate on not hitting passing speeders or ships. The helmet would always warn him in due time to evade any threat.

Then came the moment Rishi had been waiting for.

Fett pulled back for a second to reload his blasters. Rishi took one step onto the engine compartment of the speeder and jumped forth into the air, flying through emptiness and latching on to the costumed man flying behind them, drawing him down into darkness of Coruscant. The jetpack wasn't powerful enough to hold them both up, and down they went, trailed by an exhaust flame from the rocket pack.

Rishi held on as best as he could to the back of the jetpack, while the man struggled to beat Rishi away from him.

Fett elbowed him and kicked him as much as he could, but Rishi was safe behind the man, the only problem being the flame burning him slightly when he got too close. And, of course, the ground that was rushing up to kill them.

Appearing unaffected by the insanity of their fall, Fett holstered his twin blasters, whipping forth a line of claws from both his gauntlets, crossing his arms over his chest to slash Rishi with the blades beneath his armpits. Rishi stayed clear of the vicious-looking claws, maintaining his hold on the out-of-control jetpack.

Fett slashed like a madman, constantly whipping his blades back and forth, trying to push Rishi off, or just plain kill him. Rishi was not at all happy with how the interrogation was going.

The hunter then retracted both blades, and his helmet turned to stare down at the oncoming ground. Fett laughed, a sick insane chuckle as they both plummeted past the flying speeders and taxis. Using his full weight, Fett produced a flip in midair, aided by the drive of his jetpack, pulling Rishi around to the front.

_Oh, not good! _

Rishi was now beneath, which meant whatever they would hit he would hit first. Rishi produced a Force bubble around them both, slowing their descent, but not enough to land perfectly on top of the transport that flew beneath them. Rishi slammed down onto the transport, his entire body filling with lightning pains, screaming his lungs out in agony.

Fett, completely unmoved by the hard landing, rolled away, his claws out, securing a perch by slamming them down into the hull. It took Rishi a second to realize why he'd done so. The hull was curved and Rishi was still recovering from the touchdown when he realized he was starting to slide away from the crash, closer to the edge, about to roll right off the side of the transport.

Using the Force, slowing his roll significantly, Rishi saved himself at the very edge of the transport but as he looked up the rocket man was already standing at the peak of the slope, blasters aimed at him. Two shots were fired and Rishi had to roll sideways to dodge them, while trying to get on his feet and back up to the flat section.

The man fired again, relentlessly pounding at Rishi with blaster bolts. Rishi's foot supported against a beam and he pushed himself up, jumping the twenty feet up the ship and landing parallel to the rocket man.

Rishi charged down the hull with his lightsaber drawn as the man blasted away at him. Rishi parried each shot while running towards the man, up until the point that the transport started to lift its nose up towards the stars. Even for such a big ship, it didn't take long before Rishi began to feel the change and started to fall backwards down the ship's hull, the rocket man following him in a tumble, both of them sliding down the back of the ship and would soon fall to their deaths.

Again.

Fortunately the ship evened out again, and Rishi slid to a halt meters away from the engine section, while the rocket man came at him like an avalanche, his heavy equipment sliding him even further. Rishi managed to have time for a curse before the man crashed into him.

Rishi cried out in sudden fear as they both went over the edge.

His hands grabbed at everything they could and he caught hold of the ledge, not sure if it would save him or not, since he was now hanging directly in front of the engine of the transport. Aside from the pain in his arm, massive flames flaring in front of him, he could already feel the hairs on his body start to melt, as well as the pain of the heat driving through his body. It was unbearable.

Adding to his distress the arm he was holding on with felt like lightning was shooting up and down its nerves.

It was then he realized how heavy he actually was. The rocket man hung beneath him, holding on to his leg, his armor protecting him from the heat of the flames washing over him. Thinking of no better thing to do, Rishi tried kicking the man free, not understanding why the man hadn't already jetted off with his jetpack. The man held on for his life, oblivious to Rishi's kicking and it was then that Rishi realized why the man wasn't using his jetpack.

The fuel line had torn open somehow and was pouring down the man's body as he fought to get back up over Rishi. It wouldn't be long before the fuel caught fire and the jetpack exploded. And being this close together meant that it would take Rishi along with it.

As if the hunter had read his mind he unhitched his pack, allowing it to fall down into the traffic exploding against a passing speeder beneath them. Fett held on with one hand, working his other hand to aim his gauntlet out into the open traffic around them.

Out shot a snare and a grabbling hook, securing itself into the side of a passing speeder. Rishi imagined the hunter's arm would be pulled out of its socket by such a tactic, but as the speeder flashed by them Fett was dragged along with it violently, but appearing in complete control of his situation. Rishi watched the speeder fly out of view in the chaos of the traffic, Fett dangling behind it.

Leaving Rishi to die alone.

_Master! _

He didn't know why he called out for Master Skar, hoping the man would somehow hear him and come to his rescue, but Rishi knew all too well the man wouldn't. He felt sorry, and not just about knowing he was about to die, but the fact that he'd never straightened out the problems between him and Master Skar. If only he could make his Master know that he was sorry.

_Please…hear me!_

Rishi tried pulling himself up, using what little strength he had left in his body but it was no good. He was too weakened from the chase, the fight and the drop. Rather than dwelling too much on the subject Rishi decided it would be better to accept the situation and do what he had to do. Rishi reached out to the Force, calmed his mind and accepted his untimely end. His mind a blur and his skin feeling scorched, his arms pounding with pain, he sighed as he let go of the ledge well knowing it would kill him. But simply unable to take the pain anymore.

_Please…hear me!

* * *

_

Skar came out of his meditation with a gasp. He felt cold inside, horribly cold. And just before he'd come out of his meditation, he'd heard Rishi's voice. He'd felt the boy's presence inside himself, feeling his apprentice's fear and anguish. He'd been meditating, which he normally didn't do, but he wanted to see if he could make contact with Master Bo-Hi again, and find some more answers to the puzzle. Not just the puzzle about the terrorists, but also the enigma and unbearable truth about Shinran. He'd found nothing, but Rishi had invaded his mind just then.

Skar sighed and took in a deep breath, hoping it would make that terrible feeling go away, but it didn't. After contacting the recon team without any luck they'd visited the site only to find their presumptions confirmed. The recon team had been killed, bodies taken away and their gear strewn all over the snow.

Returning to the mountain they'd decided to settle down for the night. Skar had no idea what or who might have killed the recon team but he hadn't been surprised in the slightest. They'd scavenged what had been left behind which wasn't much.

Skar looked around at his team, most of them sleeping, but he was not surprised to see Kast staring at him across the cave, a worried look on his face.

"Nightmares?"

Skar shook his head. Drawing on the Force he felt himself coming back together, but much slower than it used to. That feeling of shame that Rishi had felt, that he'd translated to Skar through the Force, it hung in the back of his mind like a bad dream he couldn't wake up from.

"Meditation."

"You were meditating?"

Skar leaned back against the wall, hugging himself closely to try and stop the shaking he knew would sooner or later come. The fear. "I was…trying to focus myself before we headed out, by opening my mind up to the Force."

Kast didn't seem to understand. "How?"

"It lets me perceive things through the Force, other places, sometimes even the future or the past. It helps center you, so you know your place and your role better." Skar sighed, those words true but it wasn't how he'd felt. If anything he felt he belonged back on Coruscant with Rishi. The boy was in pain, so much pain and Skar wished he could be there. Wished he'd known what had happened. "Meditation is a getaway."

Kast moved his eyes away from Skar, to the tunnel leading outside. "I couldn't sleep either. We're usually dropped right into the thick of things, never much for resting like this. I've never slept in a hostile area before," the young man looked tired enough though, "anyway, what did you see?"

Skar ran his hand through his hair and realized he didn't have an answer. "I don't know. The Force, it shows you the events that are about to occur. It's kinda like seeing all the choices you've made in your life and seeing the way they mesh together. Into who you are now. And you see the choices in the future and you … feel the present while being aware of everything."

Kast shrugged. "Sounds crazy."

"It is."

"So what did you find out?"

Skar straightened out. "Nothing substantial, just premonitions about the future."

"Like what?"

"I didn't feel the joy of normal meditation. Instead I felt fear and emptiness. Someone called for me. He vanished before I could learn more."

Kast seemed listen carefully, very attentive to what Skar did and said. Whether that was because of mistrust or other, Skar couldn't really say. In the end they were both dependant upon each other. It was important they were honest. _Sure, keep telling yourself that…Jarod._

"Who?"

That Skar knew all too well. "My apprentice. I fear something's happened to him."

Kast nodded. "Can you tell what?"

"No…just that he thought he was going to die."

"Is he dead?"

Skar reached out to the Force again, wary of doing so, not sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. But it turned out to be a positive response. Rishi was definitely still alive, yet he was in agony and despair.

"No, he's still alive." Skar shook it off, happy to know that much and decided to change the subject. "What's your view on…free will?"

Kast's eyes moved back to him, a hint of confusion in them "You mean, do I believe in it? I guess I do. Don't the Jedi?"

Skar squinted at him, not wanting to speak for every Jedi that lived, knowing how different each person's perspective on the purpose of life was. "I do. It is our choice to choose the paths before us. We can choose whether or not to go down the right path. Each path has consequences and we must accept them. The free will is inherent in all beings. I can choose where to go."

Skar again began to feel something in the horizon. Some uncertain fate or destiny approaching. He could literally feel the Force moving around him, like the stage-workers before a big play. Skar didn't know what was going to happen, but he could feel the enormity of it all. But he couldn't see his own place.

And then Kast asked that question he sometimes wondered himself.

"Why did you become a Jedi?"

The cave felt very small all of a sudden. Skar's eyes darted out towards the opening of the cave, wishing he could see the millions of stars that hung over them, like silent spectators to their thoughts and plans. Each star a mirror of another, yet possessing its own unique radiant signature.

"The stars…each time I look at them, it feels like I'm becoming someone else. When I left Nar Shaddaa behind to become a Jedi, it was the first time I really saw the stars up close. So close I felt like I could reach them, touch them. It was a turning point for me. After the whole ordeal with Kayupa, I was onboard a Republic frigate, trying to decide which path my life should take. Again I found my answers amongst the stars. When you look at the stars, it feels like you're looking at the entire world in one image. You feel like you're seeing it all, and yet you're only seeing a very small piece of the entire image. I became a Jedi to honor my family's expectations. When I'd completed that, I had to figure out how and where I'd direct the power. I ended up on Coruscant, as a protector, a guardian." Skar's eyes fixed on the floor between them. "Now the stars are calling again, and they called me here. There is something wrong here, that I have to balance."

Kast nodded. "Your friend, right?"

Skar turned towards Kast and gave him a doubtful look, a moment of weakness in his glare. "You…think I was wrong to come here?" his otherwise controlled voice now sounded fragile, wounded.

Kast shrugged. "Everyone has their own reasons for doing things. Right or wrong, its all subjective."

Skar gave him a slow nod.

Kast could tell the Jedi hadn't been given the answer he had hoped for. The Jedi looked to his own hands for counsel, those odd red markings over his hands intrigued Kast but he hadn't found the guts yet to ask about them. Kast had several tattoos on his body, most of them a memory of something in his past. Something he'd felt was important to remember. He wondered what the Jedi's tattoos meant to him.

Skar folded his fingers together and bowed his head down until his chin touched his chest. "I…wasn't the one that killed him."

"You never said that you were," Kast whispered, "you said he wanted to die, and that he got his wish."

Skar raised his head back up to look upon Kast. "He got his wish…and he passed on his pain to me. The pain he couldn't live with."

Kast didn't understand. "What are you trying to say?"

"He…" Skar looked away, shutting his eyes tight as to hold back tears. His mouth curled and his lips started quivering. "Someone that I loved…she gave herself to save me."

"Save you?"

"She knew I cherished my friendship with Kayupa too much. And rather than let me sacrifice myself because I couldn't kill him …she stepped in my place."

Kast didn't know what to say. Jarod hadn't seemed like the kind of man who would doubt himself or his actions. He was too controlled to second-guess himself. But maybe this was an exception. Kast had never found pleasure in any long term relationship. He hadn't had time for it during his training and his career. Women and love, that was something that got notched off the list. All that mattered was the training and the mission.

Kast felt sad admitting that to himself. Because what was life all about, if there wasn't time for love?

"I don't know what to say, Jarod."

Skar sniffed. "This isn't about revenge or putting things right. Kayupa died once before, he can die again for all I care, but…if he is alive, then she died in vain." Skar's eyes turned misty. "I can't let her die for nothing. Her death served a purpose. I wish it hadn't but it did. If Kayupa is still alive, it would be a mock against what she did for me. I won't let him do that. He can't be alive."

"So you don't think its him?"

"I saw him die. I set fire to his body. The man I knew is gone…this can't be him." All the evidence seemed to prove it though; he'd talked briefly with Kayupa's spirit during meditation, and Skind Kjoil's ghost still lingered in the Force unredeemed. He didn't understand it, and a part of him was in no hurry to understand. He had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.

"But it feels like him, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"He must be after more than just meeting you again. To have gathered this whole army, staging the siege. It has to be more than just you."

Skar wiped away the mist from his eyes and then examined the scenario in his head. "I can't imagine what he might be after. All I know is that it includes me," his face turned pale, almost lifeless as he stared into nothing, "history repeats itself. I will fight him again."

Kast felt out of place. This whole siege, this mission was really about the differences between Jarod and someone he'd known, believed to be dead, now masterminding a siege on a repair yard. A repair yard which in its own way was a big mystery. Kast couldn't remember any other mission where he'd spent so much time in hostile territory, doing so much talking, thinking and scheming. This time it was different. Something prevented them from heading headfirst into the battle. It wasn't fear, Kast was sure it wasn't fear, he couldn't wait to get moving. Something else; maybe doubt, or maybe suspicion.

Kast felt like he was picking the lock on a door, trying to find the right wires and tools to open the lock before he could enter. If they'd missed a valuable clue of information it was possible they'd be dead before they even got inside the repair yard. Kast didn't like the fact that Jarod had been 'invited' here, but in the end they had no other option but to pursue their original objectives; rescue the hostages, stop the terrorists. Plain and simple, it seemed.

But none of them knew what they were trying to stop the terrorists from doing. Was the Republic really just trying to cover themselves? Who was the enemy? Too many things didn't add up, and Kast had a feeling things would seem a lot simpler when he got inside. Once someone started shooting at him, he would know who the enemy was.

Kast scratched his chin. "What if you misjudged your friend?"

Skar's worried look magnified. "What do you mean?"

Kast's voice was careless, almost sarcastic. "What if he isn't really out to kill you?" Kast tilted his head. "Maybe he just wants his friend back."

Skar's insides soured, another view of the situation that he hadn't thought of. Kayupa had in the past tried turning Skar to his side. The tension building in Skar's wanted to be released, he wanted to get his hands dirty and get it over with. He felt guilty that these soldiers, these good men, had been brought into it. That lives had already been lost because of a decade old feud between Skar and Kayupa.

Skar looked at Kast with sympathy. "You're not obligated to continue, but I can't do this alone," he said.

Kast knew the Jedi would get killed if he tried on his own, but he didn't have any confidence in himself being able to help Jarod in any way. It seemed impossible for them to have any chance on their own. "I know. And I want to help, its not that. But - it seems so unreal. I keep thinking - " Kast listened to the feelings in his heart, "nothing seems real."

Skar's eyes looked to the ground. When he spoke, his gruff voice sounded like a teacher, a mentor. A leader. "Things like training and sense of duty alone won't get you through a mission like this. I told you about not fighting anyone else's battles. You have to back up your training with an ideal, a purpose, a goal other than simple completion. This…isn't worth risking your life for, unless it has a grander purpose to either you or the things you believe in. We're not in this to make a name for ourselves."

Kast listened to the words, but it was a whole other world than that he was used to. Fighting for good - no one had ever told him about that. It was the sense of duty that kept people alive through battle, it was their courage and training that made sure they never fell in combat.

Kast felt sad inside, he wished he could have fought for something all those times he'd been on a mission. Everything he'd ever done, all his records, his medals, his scores, they seemed so hollow and pointless now. They were trophies, trophies of blood.

Blood money.

"I'm starting to realize some things." A deep sense of regret took nesting in his heart. "My parents were right," he said, his words filled with remorse, "I'm only here because I was assigned to this mission, not because I wanted to," Kast whispered to himself, "that was what my parents knew. I couldn't even do this right, it was another easy way through life. This way I didn't have to make choices for myself, my CO would always make them for me. I'm not cut out for this. I should have been a mercenary. I would have been paid more and at least then I could pick my own battles."

Skar shook his head. "Mercenaries are killers, they only fight for money. A soldier has honor, loyalty and dedication. You can stop it now. You can make this mission your last, you've got no choice if you want to survive," Skar said confidently. "Whatever happened between you and your parents has nothing to do with this. If you've been keeping the memory of disappointing your parents too close to the heart, you're likely to think they were right every time something bad happens. Don't give up until you're sure the battle's lost." Skar flashed a brave smile. "And even then, don't make it easy on them."

Kast knew he was right. Jarod seemed to consider the bigger things more easily than him. Kast smiled briefly. He believed the man was right. He still had a duty. Kast didn't want his parents to know he'd died sitting around doubting himself. If he had to die, he was gonna make his sacrifice count.

"You know all these things through the Force?"

Jarod frowned. "Doesn't take the Force to see what I just told you."

Kast felt the weight of his rifle in his hand, its burden a sign of his unbroken allegiance to his disillusioned self. But it was a part of him as much as an arm or leg. The rifle had saved his life many times, and maybe it could save him one last time. Maybe it could change him.

Skar looked over Tracker, the small droid grounded for once. "By the way, what is that thing?"

Kast smiled as he looked over at Tracker. "Its an RATM, Remote Assistance Tracking Module. We call it Tracker."

Jarod continued to inspect the curious hovering droid. "It may come in handy."

"It has so far. Me and Tracker have been through a lot together. He's the one who helped me find you in here."

"Quite the little eye in the sky, huh?"

Kast laughed, thankful for the distraction. It felt odd to laugh. "He hasn't let me down yet."

Jarod nodded and his face remained as grim as it had been before. "Lets hope he keeps that trait alive. This isn't going to be easy."

Kast loved the sound of those words. "Affirmative. But I'm through choosing the easy path in life."

* * *

Kayupa's fingers slowly depressed the buttons on the keypad next to the tall black doors. Taking his time, he pressed in the combination. Behind him laid a long dark tunnel, slightly alive with small fires from the expensive and elaborate defensive systems Kayupa had had to break through. As he'd entered the first four digits of the five digit code, he stopped, reached out towards the Force and allowed it to flow through him. He was anxious, too anxious.

Bordering on going mad with anticipation; this had been the moment he'd waited for so long, for thirteen years he'd waited to stand at this door, to press that combination and hear the doors unlock and slide open before him.

Good things came only to those who waited.

His finger pressed down -

And the doors unlocked with a loud mechanical clank, slid open, laying way to stale air and thick dust. This room, this chamber, hadn't been breached in almost five years. Kayupa took a step back, letting the sensation sink in. He was really _here_. This was really it. He had to almost gather the courage to take the first step inside.

As he did, one by one small lights flickered on inside the chamber, some in the ceiling, some in the floor and some on the cylindrical walls. The chamber was ten meters across and maybe thirty meters high at the center. As he looked up, he could barely glimpse the ceiling amidst the bright lights, but he was sure it was there, a shadow behind the stars. The floor had a coat of dust lying over it, so thick that when he walked it blew away like waves at his feet.

It was then he noticed the humming, he thought it was just the light fixtures at first, but then realized it came from the fusion generator in the other end of the room. Kayupa held out his hand, pushing away rubble and debris from his path, throwing it to the sides of the room, crashing against the walls.

He ascended the small steps that led to a dais in the center of the room. A small console stood in the center of the circled dais, and Kayupa stopped before it, looking down at the small dusty screen, wiping away the worst of it with his sleeve and then activating the console with eager fingers. The screen lit up in red, displaying its functions and asking for clear code confirmation. Kayupa typed in the memorized sequence he'd learned some years ago after hearing about the existence of this very chamber.

_Don't..._

He stopped typing halfway through the sequence, at first thinking he'd heard something, but there was no one else there. He reached out to the Force to find out if anything had happened but there was nothing. Junn was still pursuing the Jedi intruder and his companions trying to figure out what the Republic were hoping to do to his plans. Nothing else was out of the ordinary. He resumed his typing, having just pressed the final part of it when he heard footsteps behind him.

His blaster was aiming at the target even before he had identified it.

"Oh, its you."

She stood in the archway to the room, her delicate features brightening the room slightly with her careful smile. Her companionship over the years and her love had been his energy for getting this far. Her mere presence his only delight in life.

"What are you doing?"

Kayupa smiled and then turned to hit the confirm button. The screen lit up and so did the rest of the room as a loud boom resonated against the walls. Soon the floor began trembling and five round hatches slid open in a semi circle around the front of the dais. Kayupa started walking backwards down the dais, reaching out for her hand, giving it a loving squeeze as he felt her fingers interlock with his.

Slowly five cylinders the size of a full grown man rose through the hatches in the floor, rising up onto the floor level, hissing excesses of freezing air around their bases.

"We're repeating history, my love."

The glass cylinders themselves were caked with dust but as Kayupa approached them, he began to notice shapes inside. He was not ignorant to what was behind those dusty glass cylinders. He knew perfectly well what was behind them, and this was the second part of his anxiety about this moment that he'd waited for so long. He could feel his fingers tingling with energy, surges of power running through him, one might call it excitement but he knew it to be hatred, anger and disgust.

And as his hand ran across the glass of the closest cylinder, he revealed the suspended form inside hanging in a gelatinous fluid. Two sets of dead eyes stared back at him, pale white skin almost fully deteriorated, the bones bulging beneath the paper-like skin. The hair flowing with the current of the gel inside it, a mouth hung open, revealing rotting gums and the fluid itself that held the body afloat had turned almost red with age and blood.

Nevertheless Kayupa was able to recognize the identity of the dead man. He shuddered. "Technology _can _mimic life."

She walked up beside him, took a look at the corpse floating in the water, dead in time by lack of attendance from the people it had relied upon to survive. Its makers. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth and she turned away from the dead clones of Skind Kjoil, burying her face in Kayupa's cloak.

But Kayupa did not look away, he wasn't deterred. He knew this moment would come. He'd longed for it. He wasn't happy about it, but he wasn't sad about it. He'd known what he'd find down here. That didn't mean it didn't break his heart when he noticed the cylinder at the end of the line was empty.

"This is where it began, my love," tears ran down his cheeks, his jaw trembled, "this is where they did it."

The clone hatchery had once belonged to the Emperor and this had been where they'd cloned Skind Kjoil. This was where it had all happened. This was where Kayupa's nightmare began. It was here they created the worst nightmare any person should ever have to suffer. It was here they ruined his life. Kayupa's jaw tightened and he nudged her aside carefully, while his hand drew his lightsaber.

The room lit up in a red gloom.

And one by one the clones were destroyed, their corpses serving as nothing more than the target of Kayupa's anger, the hatred that had swirled inside him for all this time, the burning rancor that was his life. The pain nullifying his life, the sorrow corrupting him, the hatred his only path left to walk.

When it was done he stood there, the mutilated corpses at his feet, the fluid inside the cylinders splashed across the water and flowing between his boots. His shoulders rising and falling with his breathing, the hatred far from sated.

This was why Junn had been set up to work inside the yard, she was to confirm whether the rumors he'd heard were true. He'd had to pry the information out of Junn's former employer, Derrik, before he'd admitted to the existence of the cloning facility hidden within the old Imperial stronghold.

It was during the Galactic Civil War, during the Emperor's reign. When the Republic moved in and drove the Empire away, they didn't investigate further what this place really was. What it had been part of. But Derrik found out and he reported it. The Republic had forced Derrik to keep it a secret, threatening his wife and children.

His family.

Kayupa had managed to extract the information through his web of spies and informants inside the New Republic. Kayupa had yet to find out who had charged Derrik to keep it a secret or why. Why the Republic had chosen to keep the cloning facility a secret.

Kayupa didn't blame Derrik for betraying the Republic once he thought his life was over, and Kayupa had to promise to protect the man's family any way he could. Kayupa only hoped he could. Derrik was not a fool, he was just manipulated. Any man would act as he had if their family had been on the line.

He could still hear Derrik's whimper. _I don't care about the Republic anymore…All I want is my family._

Kayupa sighed.

_Man is a clever animal who behaves like an imbecile. _

Kayupa powered down his lightsaber, attached it to his belt. He ran his hands across his face, felt the tiny pearls of sweat and tears on his face, smiling faintly. His massacre had felt better than he'd thought it would. Whoever said that anger solved nothing had never been through his life. Kayupa felt almost happy, feeling slightly more complete, only wishing someone had been here all those years ago when it had all started and done then what he'd done now.

Kayupa turned to her, seeing her at the console, reading through the progress diary one of the Emperor's technicians had kept on the procedure. Kayupa joined her at the console and read the screen over her shoulder, squeezing her shoulders beneath his hands, offering her his strength. He could feel the sorrow inside her, the sorrow she shared with him in this. The way they shared all their pains, the way lovers shared life.

She turned her head and allowed him to see her smile. "Its them, no doubt. Spaarti cloning cylinders."

Kayupa nodded. "A device used to grow clones, a remnant of the Clone Wars. The Emperor kept a large number of Spaarti cylinder cells hidden throughout the Galaxy. Its amazing they've been kept hidden for this long."

She frowned. "Thrawn found one of them."

Kayupa smiled. "I never doubted he would. If not for our informant inside the Republic we would never have found it."

She read on. "There are details on procedure. Plenty of history. Everything's logged."

"Good," Kayupa said. Then a more worried look crossed his face. "What about the clone madness, does it say anything about the cure?"

"Funny you should mention it. I think I've just found it," she typed in a few commands, "full details on how to avoid the clone madness. This cell must've been remote-linked to the one on Wayland. There are full details on how Thrawn manufactured the clones. Seems they used ysalamiri to form bubbles devoid of the Force around the cylinders."

"Ysalamiri," Kayupa muttered to himself. "I'll take care of that."

"This allowed them to create a living and perfect clone in as little as twenty days."

Kayupa was already reaching for his comlink, flicking it on.

"Jovis here."

"Jovis, take the _Civilian _and a group of your men, ten at the most." Kayupa smiled to himself. "I want you to find something for me…on Myrkr."

Jovis sounded surprised. "Myrkr?"

"That's right," Kayupa said, "there's an animal there called a ysalamiri. I want you to bring me at least a dozen of them."

Jovis didn't understand. "What does this have to do - "

"Just do it," Kayupa ordered, "consider it an undisclosed paragraph in your contract. Another fifty thousand will be added to your account if you can deliver." Kayupa made a devious smile. "And only _you _will know about the extra fifty thousand, the rest of your crew doesn't need to know."

Jovis' thick swallow could be heard clearly over the comlink. "Fine, I'll do it," the mercenary said carefully. "Guess its better than hanging out here with that Jedi lunatic running around."

Kayupa flicked off the comlink and took a look around the room again. "Remarkable," Kayupa said to himself, casting a glance at the five cylinders beyond the dais, slightly filled with some admiration for the technology. All though he had damaged the cylinders somewhat he was still sure he would be able to fix them again. After all they were an important part of his plan.

The woman kept reading. "There are still samples of genetic codes stored inside the cylinders of all the subjects they used before. Even the Emperor's." She smirked and threw him a teasing smile. "Wanna make a Palpatine?"

Kayupa kissed those lips, sharing her happiness at how fortunate they were in their mission so far. Then he glanced down at the list of subjects they could make if they wanted to. "Jorus C'boath, Luke Skywalker," he stopped reading aloud, and although he was expecting to see the name it still cut him deep. "Skind Kjoil."

A warm hand found his. "Its in the past, my love."

"I know." He let out a heavy breath. "I know."

"The dead clones were suspended in hibernation. They weren't being built to be used right away. The Emperor had them as an ace in the hole. If he should ever need them. But the first one was - "

Kayupa looked at the last cylinder, the empty one. Anger boiled inside him again. "It was just a test run, a prototype."

She calmed him again. "It was then, it doesn't matter anymore."

Kayupa frowned, leaning against the railing around the dais, noticing the fluid on the floor that had been suspending the clones inside the cylinders. He flung a finger at the dead corpses on the floor, and looked to her. "The other four, their growth was accelerated."

She nodded, reading the information off the screen. "Each Spaarti cylinder contains a computer processing system that jacked directly into the cerebral cortex of the developing clone, flash-pumping information into the growing mind." She looked up at him. "You're right, these four were different from the…prototype," she said as harmlessly as she could, not wanting to hurt him, "it was created as a child, with very little flash learning. It was born as a normal child, without any knowledge of its identity, unlike the others who were breed into complete reflections of Skind Kjoil. Their genetic structure was modified to make them more obedient."

Kayupa frowned in disgust, turning away from the cylinders, resting his eyes on something that didn't haunt his past. "Humans have overcome the laws of nature."

She powered down the console, turned to him offering her support if he needed it. Sometimes he didn't, sometimes he just wanted to be left to his anger. It was his guide, the hatred inside him was too well-settled to ever be overthrown. Kayupa reacted on his emotions, powerful only through the wills of his heart.

He turned away, a block of stone. "If they'd never done this, I wouldn't - "

She embraced him, pleading him to stop. She must've known that what they'd found here, what they'd known they would find would not go easy on either of them. This room had spawned far more than just a clone of Skind Kjoil, it was because of this room that the Sons of Destiny had grown so strong. They would never have existed if it wasn't for Kayupa. And soon they would show the world what a crippled life of deceit they lived in.

"Life isn't as precious as it used to be," he whispered into her ear. Kayupa's comlink buzzed at that moment and he brought it to his lips. "Go ahead."

Junn's static signal came through. "General, this is Eulogy. The intruders are moving out. It seems the mountain was the site of an unfinished shelter."

Kayupa was surprised that piece of information had not reached his attention, but it didn't seem crucial in the end. "And?"

"Between the shelter and Hope's Haven lies..." She left the sentence unfinished

Kayupa's insides froze, but none of his shock translated to his voice. "The hydro generator. Are they linked?"

"There's an underground tunnel that runs both ways, one to the shelter and one to the station. Thermal vision confirms it. The tunnel comes out at the bottom of the main building."

Koll nodded. The main building had a lift that ran through every level of the structure, straight up to the command center, from which anyone could shut down the entire facility and leave it open for an attack. "Interesting...but rest assured they won't be able to penetrate through there."

Junn sighed on the other end. "Have you forgotten that one of them is a Jedi Knight?"

Kayupa felt a tinge of anger, but quelled it easily. "No, I haven't."

"What if this was their primary objective?"

Kayupa pushed away from the woman and the railing, suddenly conscious of what Junn was saying. "If they destroy the hydro generator now - "

"We would be helpless against an attack, there could be a fleet lying in wait for something like this to happen."

"We're not ready for such a strike, not yet." Kayupa damned himself. He had been too wrapped up in finding the cloning facility to think clearly. His objectiveness had faded. He thanked the stars he'd let Junn stay with the advancing enemies. "You must make sure they don't make it that far."

"Are those official orders?"

Kayupa closed his eyes. "Kill them," he ordered, "kill them all." He flicked off the comlink. And then he turned to the love of his life, reaching inside his coat to retrieve a thin glass vial, tiny drops of dark blood inside. "That last cylinder is still working. Its time for a test run."

* * *

Usually the first thing he felt when he woke up was drowsiness, but that had been replaced with a skull-splitting headache. He stirred where he laid, moving slightly to his right, trying to wake up. The pain in his head grew with his every little move, compounding inside his head, expanding until he thought his head would crack open. His last memory included fighting with a bounty hunter, falling towards Coruscant's surface, as well as hanging in front of the engine department of a cruiser, so naturally his first instinct was to keep moving, to slip whatever held him until he was sure he was safe.

A firm hand planted on his chest to keep him lying still. "Rest easy, young one. Don't move," a gentle voice near him said.

He had no inner compass or bearing on where he was, nor where the person who'd spoken would be. All he had was the darkness inside his soul, accompanied by a pain inside his head so great he thought would soon die. He chose to remain still on whatever he was lying on, hearing the words spoken repeating again in his mind. Concentrating on them because they were all the distraction he had to take him away from the pain.

Another pain slowly registered. His skin felt tender, it felt more like an outer shell and he'd never been conscious before then on how encapsulated by his flesh he really was. He could actually feel it, a thickness around him like he had grown fur and was adjusting to the warmth.

A humming heat surrounding him, reminding him of his burns. He could also feel the pain in his arm, and as he tried to manipulate it he found he couldn't move that limb. But he was too weak to open his eyes to see what had happened to it. Or whether it was even still there.

"Where…am I?" he whispered, but the words still thundered like a storm inside his head.

"Safe," the delicate voice whispered.

Rishi relished those words, happy to know that. He ignored the thought that he might have been taken captive, safe could mean so many things. He still wasn't sure how he'd survived. It had to have been a miracle.

"Miracle?" a second voice said, this one rough and direct. "Just fancy flying."

Rishi recognized the voice and as he reached out blindly with the Force he felt the presence of Jedi Knight Kal Ulani.

"Kal…what happened?" he muttered, regretting it the next second as he heard his own words magnify inside his mind, tempting the pain.

"After you jumped off the speeder - I'll remind you later how stupid that was - I turned the speeder around and went after you. You're lucky to have survived. It was pure luck that I was there in time to catch you when you fell."

Rishi swallowed, trying to rid himself of the dryness in his mouth. "Thank you."

Kal's presence came closer. "You mind telling me why Boba Fett wants you?"

Rishi remembered his encounter with Boba Fett, the masked warrior. Rishi guessed Fett had been hired by this Rarsk Dokyan, the informant whom Rishi suspected was working for the Sons of Destiny, to take out any and all who knew about his shadowy business. The ones who'd hunted him outside the Tusken had to have been hired by him too, and now Fett.

Maybe Fett was personal, maybe Rarsk had found out Rishi was snooping around and had Fett called in to take Rishi out. Crip had been killed, but he'd said there was someone after him. If he thought Fett was after him he wouldn't have said '_someone'_, people didn't say someone when they meant Boba Fett. Rishi was sure Fett hadn't killed Crip. And there was no other reason anyone would send such a talented hunter after Rishi. Rishi had no prior problems with anyone.

Fett was just suddenly there, hunting him, right when he was about to solve this mystery and capture Rarsk Dokyan. Rarsk knew Rishi was after him, and he'd hired the most notorious bounty hunter there was to come after him.

"It must've been the Bothan," Rishi said.

"This Dokyan guy?"

"The one who's working for the Sons of Destiny. The one who sent the message to my Master."

"Right," Kal said carefully, "we'll work on that once you're okay again."

Rishi stirred, feeling a slight prick in his otherwise numb arm. "Where am I?"

Kal laughed. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

Rishi found it odd how few people realized that saying that you didn't want to know made you want to know even more. He started to sit up but something, a hand, pushed him back down.

"You really don't want to know," the soft voice said.

Rishi pushed away the hand with what strength he had and managed to sit up. He tried opening his eyes, but it was like lifting a speeder with one finger. His eyelids felt too heavy. He reached out to the Force for strength and found just enough to open his eyes. A blinding light stared back at him, as though he was diving directly into a sun, making him flinch and turn away. He tried opening them again when they were pointed in another direction, but the same blinding light met him.

"Am I blind?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"No," the kind voice chimed, "your skin is severely burned. This room emits special lighting that advances the normal growth of your skin's healing ability. Without it, it would take months before you were back to normal. This way it only takes a few days. I've been - "

"Stop! Stop talking!" Rishi snapped, each word he heard filled his head with tremendous pain. "Who are you!"

"This is a native healer. She specializes in burn-victims like yourself," Kal answered for the woman with the soft voice of a spirit. "We're safe here. I've been here before."

Rishi guessed all he could do was trust the Jedi. He didn't really have much choice. "Why is the lighting so powerful to my eyes?"

"Its possible your eyes have suffered some damage," that sweet voice suggested, "right now I'm focusing on healing your skin back to normal."

"It isn't so bad," he said, "why didn't you want me to see it?"

He heard Kal clear his throat. "That wasn't what we were trying to keep you from seeing."

"Then what is?"

"Your skin," the tender voice next to him whispered, "I've managed to improve the speed of the healing but its still pretty bad. As I said it takes a few days to completely - "

Rishi sighed. "Look, I appreciate you helping me, but I don't have days to sit around here! I need to get back out there. I have a job to do!"

He heard Kal snigger. "You're not going anywhere looking like that. You look like a fried Rancor chew toy."

Rishi heard the woman suppress a laughter.

"Very funny," Rishi muttered.

"Fett won't have a hard time finding you next time," Kal added, "he can just follow that scent."

Rishi heard the joint laughter coming from them like a waterfall inside his head, angering him, yet he was grateful that they were able to joke about it. That meant it wasn't serious. It meant he would be alright. Enough to beat them senseless later.

Off the top of his head he was reminded of something else. "What happened about to our little Trandoshan snitch? The kid?"

"I let him go," Kal said.

"What? He might have known something - "

" - But not before I asked him some questions. We were lucky your healer had a protocol droid that understood reptile. Seems the kid was a slave. But you were right about Dokyan, the boy confirmed it. Dokyan ordered the kid to follow that group of mercenaries that went after you, even he didn't know why. Dokyan threatened to pound on him if he didn't."

Rishi cursed. "I'm beginning to dislike this Bothan more and more with each second."

"Kid gave me the address. We'll leave for it as soon as you're ready."

Rishi tried to open his eyes again, but it was still too powerful for him to see anything. "Sithspawn! We can't wait any longer. What we find there might be essential to the Republic's investigation. Kal, you'll have to go without me."

"I'm not going out there if Fett is still trying to keep up his quota. We'll stand a better chance as a team."

Rishi smirked. "Afraid to take him on, huh?" It felt good to bring Kal down a notch.

But the Jedi must've been expecting him to say it. "You took him on yourself and look at you now; roasted to perfection! No way, I'm not going out like you did."

"But you have the Force," Rishi said, "I wasn't thinking clearly. If you were ready for him, surely you could beat him."

He heard Kal sigh. "Force or no Force; Fett isn't your average thug. That man has been chasing people all his life and he's never failed. I don't want to be another name on a very long list of kills."

Rishi was of a different mind. He hoped he would have the chance to dent Fett's armor again, in a fair man-to-man fight this time. He hoped he would meet the bounty hunter again. Rishi knew he wasn't going to be on Fett's roster. He would show the man, and that was all he was, a man, that messing up Jedi didn't go unpunished.

"How long before I'm done here?"

"A couple of hours," the soft voice said.

"Hours! You said days a minute ago!" Rishi shouted.

"I said days, but - "

Kal interrupted. "I was going to tell you when you cooled down a bit. You've already been here two days."

Rishi felt like beating something. "You lied to me? Then what was all that talk about me looking like roasted meat and me not wanting to see how horrible my skin looked like!"

Kal sniggered again, a confident laugh followed it. "That was fun."

Rishi cursed.

"You look fine," the gentle voice said.

Rishi couldn't believe two days had passed since his encounter with Fett. He guessed he'd had no choice in the matter. He would've been no good if his skin had been as bad as they'd said. But that didn't mean he liked being jerked around. He sighed. "Have you heard anything from Skywalker?"

He felt a touch of hesitation coming from the Jedi. "No…I haven't been able to reach him."

"I thought you two were buddies?" Kal had claimed Luke and him had been contacting each other through the Force. Rishi had never met Kal before and had his doubts about the man. To be able to keep a connection of communication through the Force between Coruscant and Msst was no small feat, and Rishi felt confident enough to claim Kal wasn't attuned enough to pull it off. Maybe Master Skar could, he'd had a longer friendship with Skywalker. Rishi was certain that he couldn't. But feeling too tired to further the matter Rishi logged it in the back of his head for later scrutiny.

Rishi tried to relax. "Tell me about yourself, Kal. I don't know anything about you."

"There's not much to know."

Rishi snorted. "You knew who I was when you came looking for me."

Kal tried to avoid the subject. "That was different. Skywalker gave me instructions to look out for you while he was gone."

Rishi shrugged. "So, you know my secret. Tell me yours."

"I don't have any secrets."

Rishi felt his anger reaching its boiling point. "You're not a normal Jedi, are you?"

"You should be resting - "

"What I should be doing is finding out who the blazes you are! You come out of nowhere, claim that Skywalker trusted you to look out for me. But you won't tell me who you are, where you came from. Skywalker may have trusted you, but you and I are a totally different matter," Rishi had to breathe to calm himself down again. "So start talking."

He heard Kal sigh. "I come from a long line of Jedi. My grandfather fought in the Clone Wars, but he was killed in the Jedi Purge." Kal hesitated. "By Lord Vader himself."

Rishi felt the man's anguish. "Darth Vader killed your grandfather? Who trained -"

"Nevermind," Kal said sharply. "get your rest. We can talk when you're back together."

Rishi sighed, realized he wasn't getting anywhere with his questions. "Fine, let me sleep the rest of the time. Then I'll be ready."

He felt Kal agreed. "You really think this Dokyan has anything to do with the terrorists?"

"I'm not sure," Rishi said as he laid back down, getting ready to rest, "but all the leads I've found point to him. Maybe he'll give us a new clue. He may not be working with them, but he is involved."

Kal snorted. "Sons of Destiny; sounds like a day-care center for Jedi orphans."

Rishi laughed, feeling slightly better now. The headache had vanished somewhere along his talking, he hadn't even noticed it. Maybe they'd given him something. "I'd feel better if we knew that Dokyan hasn't already left the planet."

"I'll see what I can find out," Kal said.

Rishi heard the man's boots turn as he was about to leave the room.

"Kal?"

He heard the boots turn back around. "Yeah?"

Rishi swallowed his pride, and it tasted bitter. "Thank you for saving me."

He felt Kal was smiling, proudly and somewhat uncomfortable with the praise. "Don't sweat it. You get better and we'll go after these guys." The boots turned away from him again.

"Kal?" Rishi said again.

"What?" This time the boots didn't turn around.

Rishi used the Force to make his words have a bigger impact than they normally would. "Don't ever lie to me again. If I'm going to trust you, you have to be trustworthy. Don't jerk me around. I appreciate your help," he tried not to sound too hostile, but wasn't sure he pulled it off well enough, "but if I can't trust you I'd rather go on alone."

Rishi felt the embarrasment coming from Kal's position in the room. "I understand."

Rishi allowed his mind to drift, falling rapidly into a sleep pattern, but only externally. With the Force he kept a probing eye over everything around him, aware of the room, the street outside, seeing it all in black and red before his third eye. He didn't want to let his guard down. People were after him now, this wasn't just an investigation anymore.

* * *

The underground tunnel ran for miles and miles underneath the snowy plains. A single pathway of metallic surfaces had been laid out in the center of the tunnel, and once every twenty feet a single light fixture had been attached to the wall. It offered very little light but it was enough. The tunnel was far enough that the distance between the lights offered little help in letting them know how close they were to the end of it. Tracker supported their vision with its small projectors but it made little to no difference.

The tunnel itself was always an even twenty feet in diameter, leaving enough space for all the soldiers to walk in a wide fan, their rifles trained on the space ahead of them, always ready for a change or an ambush. Neither of them could put the feeling out of their heads that they were back in the Gauntlet. The only sounds they could hear were their own breathing, their own footsteps on the metal, and Tracker's electronic humming.

Skar brought up the rear, muted lightsaber in hand, with the pilot walking between him and the soldiers. None of them spoke a word, knowing every little sound would echo down the tunnel and might alert an enemy to their presence. It was a dangerous game but it was all, and therefore also the best, they had.

Once everyone had rested, they'd divided all the rations between them, while Skar had donated his to the rest of them. While he could feel the first signs of hunger, however much he used to Force to hold it back, he felt wrong taking anything from them. They needed it more than he did.

The team looked better now, back to their strengths, although still complaining about the cold. The pilot had fallen into scared silence, talking only when spoken to. He was terrified being in this kind of enviroment, so one of the soldiers had given him a single sidearm. They all doubted it would serve much use to him, but it gave the pilot a feeling of false security and sometimes that was all that was needed.

Though the tunnel was getting on their nerves, it was several degrees warmer than the outside, which meant the soldiers could shed their borrowed jackets and now marched resolutely in their own clothes. Dark and blue armor over black fatigues, helmets that resembled a more rounded version of Mandalorian helmets, geared up in all their equipment. In the dim lighting of the tunnel they were mere shadows, only visible for a short second as they passed a light fixture. Stix was the only one audible, his one leg dragging because of the grenade he took to it earlier.

Salvor, Call and Stix carried their single long-range rifle proudly by the waist, while Kast kept a lighter version of it, but with more gadgets attached. Looking at the weapon you got the sense that Kast meant business and he kept it close to the body, always viewing the world down its frame. But there was a change in the way his eyes saw the world, Skar noticed. Kast had been enlightened by his talks with Skar and was determined to make an end to the kind of life he'd been living so far.

Skar worried about their mission, many things seemed to play against them. They were only a handfuld against an entire army, and they were on unfamiliar territory. He had also yet to find out who or what had killed Dasan. If it had been a Jedi, a true Jedi, he figured he would have felt its presence in the Force. He was sure whoever had killed the soldier wasn't one of the mercenaries they'd taken out back at the crevasse. Something was very wrong about it, and he didn't like feeling as -

Skar was lost in his own thoughts when the Force suddenly called out to him, like an alarm going off in his head, alerting him to a presence far behind him. Skar didn't turn his head to look since he knew he wouldn't spot anyone back there. But when he reached out to that area, he could definitely feel a presence, someone concentrating a great amount of energy towards them.

Skar could tell by the level of focus the person was exhibiting that this was the sniper that had killed Red the other day when they'd arrived. Skar had reached out to the Force then and told the rest of the strike team that he couldn't sense the sniper, and nor had he now until the sniper had begun to present a threat.

If the sniper had been connected to the Force and had been blocking Skar's senses he would have known. He would have been able to tell. But this was different. The person used no Force, and yet it eluded the Force's attention. And Tracker, hovering above them, hadn't spotted the person either. He could feel the sniper getting ready to fire.

_You can't run from a sniper, you'll just die tired. _

He had to think of something quick.

"Wait up," he said in a low voice, though the tunnel magnified the sound enough for all of them to hear, and hunched down, "I have to tie my boot."

The soldiers stopped. Kast glanced around them and then looked down at Skar when he thought the man was taking too long tying his boots. It was then he noticed that Skar's boots had no laces.

Kast caught on quick and fortunately he kept the act going. Skar could sense Kast was aware of something amiss and hoped the sniper couldn't see the arrow Skar drew in the snow next to his boot. The arrow pointed between Skar's feet, to the area behind him. Kast knew that meant he couldn't talk without the sniper knowing, since his front was turned in that direction.

But then the pilot came walking back to Skar, unaware of the threat, and got in between the sniper and him.

Skar felt like pushing the man away, but knew he couldn't alert the man to the danger without the sniper knowing. Snipers were usually trained in lip-reading and the sniper would know if Skar said anything. If they started running it would make no difference and Skar wanted the sniper off their backs for good.

He could feel the danger tickling away in his mind, only a few seconds until the crucial shot would be fired. He had to wait until the trigger was pressed, and that meant he only had less than a second to do what he had to do.

The sniper fired and the bolt came wheezing down the tunnel with lightning speed. Hunched down, Skar swirled to his left, scissoring the pilot's ankles with his outstretched foot and dropping the man to the ground. The pilot hadn't even touched the ground when Skar came up and around with his lightsaber blazing, and following his swirl through he batted his lightsaber against the bolt and ricocheted it back down the tunnel, right back at the sniper.

In the distance he felt the bolt hit the rifle it had been shot from, and a brief distant glare suggested he'd been successful. He reached out to sense the sniper, but felt nothing there. The exploding rifle must've taken him out too.

Kast came up alongside Skar, looked off into the distance of the tunnel where the shot had bounced back, checking the scene with his helmet's binoculars but saw no movement, only small pieces of flaming debris.

The pilot stared at all of them, his entire body shaking.

Skar turned off his lightsaber, and nodded towards the small flare still visible far down the tunnel. "He was following us."

Kast turned off his binoculars. "Ever since - "

"The crevasse. It was him that took out Red...but he wasn't the one that killed Dasan. I would have known."

Kast looked over at Skar, and Skar felt the anger in the man, felt how he wished he'd been the one to kill the sniper. Personal grudges could get one killed in situations like this. "You sure?"

Skar nodded.

"Good," Kast muttered, that meant the man still had a chance to claim his revenge.

Salvor nodded to all of them. "Lets keep moving." Salvor lead Stix, Call and the pilot on while Kast stayed closer to Skar this time.

Only a few minutes later they came to an abrupt end, the tunnel ended in a thick slab of metal. Though heartbreaking, none of them ever made it to full worry. Anger was quick to take the lead, resulting in several mutterings of curses.

Skar stepped forward, holding out his hand on the metal, trying to get a feel of its stability and thickness. The psychometry also told him that the slab had been put there not by the terrorists, but by Republic technicians several years ago. There was little else to know, except the sensation of a faint vibration coming off the wall.

Skar stepped back. "There's something behind it, something powerful."

The soldiers opened up their helmets, their faces moist and pale enough to see even in the darkness. Salvor looked over his shoulder once, checking his rear, before daring to raise his voice. "Can you cut through it?"

Skar nodded. "Sure, but it could be a trap."

Call hugged his rifle. "Its a little late for traps. They know we're here."

Stix stepped forward, shouldering his rifle, taking a long good look at the metallic wall. "Salvor, can I - "

"No," the team leader said bluntly, "stop trying to blow everything up. Jarod's lightsaber should easily make us a hole."

Stix banged the wall with his armored fist, snarling in dissapointment. "_Stop trying to blow everything up_. You're starting to sound just like my mother, Salvor. Let me do it, just this one time."

Skar smiled, charmed by the slight psychosis of Stix. "Tell you what, you make the hole." He held out his lightsaber hilt.

Stix looked at the weapon in awe, which quickly changed into repulsion. "Nah. You take this one. I'll take the next one."

Skar chuckled. "Okay." And then set about cutting an entry through the metal. The lightsaber was inserted easily, instantly melting the metal, sending sparks flying around his fingers as he moved the hilt down and around in a wide circle. Using the Force he removed the metallic plug and set it down gingerly next to the gab.

Tracker was first to go through, checking the space beyond before giving them the clear signal. Kast stepped through, his light-equipped rifle casting a cone-shaped beam of light around his surroundings. One by one they all moved through, and found themselves in a chamber only halfway through construction. Two out of four walls were missing, no ceiling except for a deadly looking group of frozen staglamites.

Beyond the chamber's floor and walls, a wider and taller untouched cave passage continued for miles, a frozen lake running down the center of it. But there was light, brighter projectors every twenty yards in floor, wall and ceiling. Skar almost found the sight of the passage way beautiful, the lights glistening off the frozen lake and croppings of staglacites looked like stars buried in the snow.

But that wasn't the thing that caught his breath; it was the hydro generator pounding away in the small room before the passage way. The generator itself resembled a giant robotic heart hung up on thick wires, suspended in the center of the air, while more wires descended through a well in the floor beneath it.

"It's the auxillary generator," Salvor said with a hint of glee in his voice. "I don't believe it."

Skar nodded. "You're right. The main power generator unit is down the well, probably gathering power from a lake running deep within the lower levels of these caves. And its online as well."

Kast whistled, but it came off more skeptical than happy. "This is a bit too lucky, don't you think?"

Skar walked over and bent down by the well, looking down the shaft. He couldn't see the bottom of it, but he could hear waves crashing and more electronic soundscapes. "There's no such thing as luck, Kast."

Kast made a mocking face behind the Jedi's back.

Call stepped away from the generator and stared down the vast cave passage that awaited them. "They have to know we'd find it. And if this is their only supply of power you can bet they're on their way here."

Stix nodded. "He's right. We should - "

Salvor turned to Stix, his voice sounded frustrated but direct. "We are _not _blowing it up, Stix."

Stix's jaw fell. "WHAT!"

"Not yet," Skar added, "we can use it as a bargaining chip. We should set remote charges and head on. If we blow it now, they'll reroute the power within hours. The hours blowing up this generator gives us, could win the battle here once the Republic shows up."

Salvor nodded. "Exactly."

Stix's mouth was still wide open, but eventually he frowned and pulled out explosives. "_Fine!_ But I place the charges!"

Kast padded Stix on the shoulder. "And when the time comes, you'll trigger them too."

Stix prepped his devices and planted them. "Won't be much fun if we're too far away to hear it, though."

Call turned away from the cave ahead of them and faced his comrades. "We're wasting time here."

Salvor nodded. "Finish setting your toys, Stix, and let's move out."

Stix completed his demolition job in record time, Skar thought as he stood by the edge of the chamber's floor, looking down into the mesmerizing cave beyond them, when the soldier returned. Skar was also surprised to see the man was still carrying the two explosive packs that he was supposed to plant.

"Someone beat me to it," Stix said, a disgruntled look on his face as he put the explosives back in his satchel. "The section that I'd chosen as the best place to plant them was taken. Five charges bigger than these were already planted, and armed."

Salvor's eyes widened. "By who?"

"Beats me," Stix said, "why would they blow up their own generator?"

Skar believed he knew the answer to that. "Because of us. We found this place because we deemed it to be the easiest place to penetrate. They knew that. So they set up bombs in case we proved their point."

Kast wasn't convinced. "But why would they detonate their own emergency generator? They could have set up more teams if they believed we would come through here. They didn't have to waste explosives on us." Kast frowned. "And if the bombs were intended for us, why haven't they been blown yet?"

Skar felt uneasy now that Kast pointed out they could be blown sky high any second. "Good point. Let's get out of here."

The cave beyond the small chamber looked deserted, and it didn't seem to have been used for some time. The cave hadn't been excavated in the snow, it was made by nature, but someone had set in the light projectors as well as the groups of wires and cables that ran along the ceiling of the cave. Conduits for the power generated at the bottom of the shaft behind them.

Nodding once to Kast Skar started to walk on -

Only to find that he couldn't. He stood there, frozen as if by fear. He felt suddenly conscious of a tremor in the Force, like a wave of warning passing through him, just like the one only minutes earlier. But this was much worse, a feeling of death. The space ahead of them felt vacated, almost like a tomb. A hollow emptiness resonating through the Force.

"We're...close," he muttered.

Kast looked over at Skar. "What makes you say that?"

"Because something's not right."

Kast's hands tightened on the rifle. "What's wrong?"

Skar tried putting it into words, although nothing could describe the horrible emptiness inside of him. "I can feel the station ahead. This place…it feels cold, dead."

Kast didn't look like he understood.

"Something…evil was here. A long time ago."

Kast chucked queasily. "Don't tell me you believe in ghosts?" he joked.

Skar shook his head. "Ghosts are myths."

Kast agreed. "And myths aren't necessarily true."

"And yet they happen all the time," Skar added. He had never felt such a concentration of the Dark Side in one place, not even in the tomb on Kryuu where Skind Kjoil's ghost had been imprisoned. Something so dark in the Force that it felt like headlights bearing down on him, blinding him, an impact soon to come.

He chose to pull away from the Force, feeling that the amount of impression he got from it was overpowering him. He wouldn't be able to focus on the mission if he concentrated on that surge of evil.

Then it all became clear. He wasn't focusing on the darkness.

The darkness was focusing on him.

_I am you..._

"No," he whispered to himself.

Next to him Kast looked scared out of his mind, eager for clarification. "What? What is it?"

Skar's lightsaber lit up, illuminating the cave in bright green. "The Darkness...I think its still here."

Then it came again, unasked, like a talent you were born with but never really understood.

A warning.

"Get down!" Skar pushed Kast away from the center of the chamber, as a salvo of blue blaster bolts came flying over the heads of the other soldiers and the pilot, from further down the tunnel.

* * *

Kayupa entered the control room, finding Derrik Melar already there, released from his cell and back on duty as Kayupa's new supervisor. Kayupa paid no attention to the man as he went for the nearest console to investigate the situation. He could feel Junn's pain, feel her shame and knew that meant the Jedi would already be at the emergency generator by now. Neglecting Junn for the moment he concentrated on getting rid of their intruders first.

Kayupa checked through all the cameras in that area, and finally found one overlooking the tunnel where the advance team he'd sent was busy holding back the Jedi and team inside the tunnel.

He pulled out his own comlink. "Rancor Group, come in."

The reply came through quick enough but it was hard to make out due to the static and the loud background of gunfire. "Rancor Two…intruders…pinned down…"

Kayupa nodded confidently. "Do you anticipate success?" Kayupa wanted to know the mentality of his soldiers. If they didn't think they could win the battle, there was no reason for them to waste their lives trying.

"Phase 3 ready?" the soldier asked.

Kayupa turned to Derrik. "How far along are we?"

Derrik looked anything but optimistic. "We're having problems with the routing, we're not ready yet. It could take hours."

Kayupa sighed. "Negative on Phase 3, Rancor Two." Phase 3 was designed to destroy the auxiliary hydro generator using shape charges. Kayupa had always intended to remove that part of the structure because it presented a possible entry point for the enemy. The main compound was well fortified, even from an attack from orbit.

Phase 3 also included setting up a second power supply inside the main compound to replace the power coming from the emergency generator. As it was they were running on the power of the secondary hydro generator because of a problem with the main generator.

But if they could trigger the charges now it would take out the lights in the tunnel, and it would remove the weak point in their armor. But blowing it now would leave them without power and vulnerable to an attack from the outside, like Junn had previously suggested.

Kayupa turned to Derrik. "What about that fusion generator down below in the cloning facility?"

"It might work," Derrik said, "but it will take some time to reroute."

"Do it," Kayupa ordered.

"That will interfere with Phase 4," Derrik commented.

"No," Kayupa answered, "that _Jedi _will interfere with Phase 4 if we don't stop him soon."

Derrick set about his difficult task.

Kayupa turned his attention to the screen showing the firefight. He could barely make out his team's opposition. As if answering his internal wish the Jedi jumped out from the shadows of the tunnel, into the view of the camera.

A face.

Kayupa froze. _He's here...

* * *

_

From far down the cave passage a group of enemy soldiers started pouring out of the darkness, their rifles screaming. Skar embraced the Force and grabbed onto the very fabric of time as he rolled forward into the tunnel. He moved in slow motion, his mind picking up hundreds of details of the tunnel and his armored assailants before he'd even cleared the roll. He came up with his lightsaber, protecting himself against a wide fan of fire, as he dove back and forth, also protecting the soldiers from the onslaught of blaster bolts. His team were quick thinkers; they kicked up the metallic plates covering the floor of the chamber behind him and used them as shields, since the tunnel offered them no natural shelter.

Seconds were stretched out into infinity, aided by the Force Skar became a wall of protection that ran to meet the enemy head on. The lightsaber swirled endlessly in his hands as he ran on down the length of the tunnel, ducking in and out what little cover he could find. To the enemy he moved like lightning but for him he had oceans of time to contemplate every move, every target and every tactic.

A soldier was apprchasing him from the other end of the tunnel, hiding behind their own shields as well, as they blasted away. The icy columns deteriorated under the blaster fire and filled the passage with the sound of thunderous lightning.

Skar came up to another column of ice, stopped there and waited for an enemy soldier to come around the corner. But another soldier was already there. Hiding behind the exact same column as Skar, so close to each other that they could have touched each other.

They both jumped out at the same time, facing each other. Skar could see the man's knees bending in slow motion, to duck beneath Skar's blade, and he copied the move. Down on his knees he lashed his blade out in a wide fan, slicing through the soldier's kneecaps, and cutting the column they'd used as cover in half as well.

The other soldier came up behind his fallen comrade and Skar needed only to raise his slightly to tear the man apart with it's blade, cutting up through the center of his body.

Skar ducked back behind his halfened column, he could feel plenty more soldiers up ahead. He needed rest before he went on. Using the Force as strongly as he had to increase his speed demanded a lot of his concentration.

Kast came running up behind him and ducked down behind a column across from Skar, ready for action. Skar came out from behind the bulkhead, fired a swarm of angry red bolts from his sidearm at the soldiers, and ducked back behind it for cover when they fired back.

Across from him Kast was repeating Skar's moves, except he did it with the carbine, shooting ten times the amount that Skar was and in half the time. Bolts crisscrossed down the narrow tunnel. Skar ducked out again, the recoil pounding through his wrist and upper arm as he added to the already out-of-control situation.

Kast followed again as Skar moved behind the safety of the column, laying down a suppressive fire to keep the attackers at bay. The soldiers retaliated with their own tactics, trying to flush Kast and Skar out.

Tracker had remained further back, assessing the situation and offering help whenever it calculated a tactic that was above ninety percent survivable. It also offered a remote camera which transmitted an image of the tunnel ahead to the soldiers' HUDs, making them able to see the enemy without having to stick their neck out in the line of fire.

Skar jumped out again, fired rapidly, depressing the trigger as fast as he could, dozens of fiery red beams darting down the tunnel, but even with his Jedi senses he was unable to collect a hit or even graze any of their attackers. Kast had the same amount of success, only he didn't look as disparaged as Skar. But Skar knew he had to have been thinking the same thing.

Stalemate.

Kast slumped back behind the column, already reaching for a new charge. "Any thoughts!" he shouted over the roaring blaster-fire.

Skar fired two bolts around the corner, not expecting to hit anything, only wanting to keep their attackers at bay while Kast rearmed himself. "Surrounding them is out."

Kast laughed and cocked his rifle, returning to wasting his bolts at their adversaries. "How about some of that Jedi stuff? Ain't you got something up your sleeve?"

Skar reached out to the Force, touching the minds of the enemies down the tunnel and felt like he hit a brick wall. Their minds were too strong. Manipulation only worked on the weak-minded and these were not. It felt almost as if they'd been trained to be able to withstand the intrusion of the Force, which left Skar with only one option.

Skar was well adverse in deflecting bolts but with the drain he felt after using the Force to quicken his advance, he doubted he could deflect enough bolts to keep him alive. Skar looked up and saw the heavy cables running along the ceiling of the roof between the light fixtures. He looked over at Kast who looked back at him with a cocky smile.

_Bedtime.

* * *

_

Inside the control room the screens, computers and the ceiling lights tunnel went black as night.

"What happened?" Derrik cried in the darkness, scuffling around somewhere, bumping into things. "I'm blind!"

"No, you fool," Kayupa barked through the darkness, "they blew up the hydro generator. We've lost all electricity." The room lit up in a reddish glare as Kayupa activated his lightsaber. Using it a torch, he then found his comlink. "How far along are we on the fusion generator?"

A voice crackled at the other end. "An hour, General."

Kayupa switched the frequency. "Rancor team, what's going on down there?"

The response was alive with screaming blaster-fire and the distant familiar hum of a lightsaber. "….pinned down…no chance of escape…"

Kayupa smiled confidently at Derrik. "Sounds like things are under control - "

"No, General!" Rancor Two screamed, "_we're_ pinned down!"

* * *

"Wait here," Skar said to Kast as he marched out directly into the line of fire, his lightsaber deflecting and blocking each bolt coming his way with effortless care. He started walking down the tunnel, closing the gap between him and the attackers with each step.

His hands moved like lightning, by their own will, controlled by the Force as he strolled down the tunnel. The bolts bounced off his blade, ricocheting into the walls, lighting the tunnel with bright flashes, supplementing the blade's green glow.

He felt more confident about his ability to block their shots now. It reminded him of how he'd once challenged the blocked mind of a monk on Kryuu, helping him break through his focus by snapping his weapon in half.

Cutting the light had done the same for him here. The attackers started backing up, their rifles still blasting at him when he was close enough for them to see his sickly calm face as he maneuvered between the shots.

When he deemed he was close enough, he began bouncing the shots backwards rather than into the walls. Several soldiers shouted in pain and fear as their weapons exploded in their hands. Skar moved in, never a moment's hesitation, his blade cutting through the thigh on the closest man, pulled his hands up high, cleaving the man in half.

Two quick slashes turned a second soldier into three pieces of indeterminable meat, before rolling forward, hacking off the hands of a third soldier, as the man went for his shin-blaster. Skar pulled the blade back, slashed right-to-left, slicing the man's head in two just below his ears.

Caught in the confusion and their own fear, Skar made quick work of the rest of the enemy, cutting them all down in seconds. The tunnel quieted down, only the hissing sound of his blade breaking through the tranquillity.

Skar's hands were still shaking, the hilt wrapped inside his palms, when Kast came up beside him. Skar knew he'd had no choice. He'd always objecting to the dogma that the only way to defeat an enemy was to kill. He despised killing, it was the very center and pinnacle of all that was evil to him, and yet he had come to realize that a lot of times, in a lot of ways, it was the only real choice he had.

And even now, as he felt their lives silently and slowly leave the dead bodies, he could feel a touch of sorrow that wasn't his, like a breath of fire inside him.

His team came up behind him. Kast knelt down by one of the dead guards, studying their equipment. What stood out most was their black as night armor, their bodies fully protected in what felt almost like a mixture between rubber and steel.

Kast sighed. "These aren't mercenaries. These must be what you saw on Coruscant, huh?"

Skar nodded. Indeed these were the soldiers he'd seen on the holo-transmission. The real Sons of Destiny.

Salvor whistled. "This is very advanced. I've never seen anything like this before. I doubt anyone in our Galaxy has either."

Skar crouched down beside him, agreeing more and more with his statement the longer he looked at the armor. The armor looked alien, and Skar felt that even Kast had no idea of what culture or weapons-manufacturer could have developed it. Skar had also seen Kast score a pair of shots directly on the armor, but the guy had still gotten up afterwards and fought on.

It seemed their bolt-proof combat gear was made out of dura-armor, a type of protection suit that absorbed and diverted blaster-fire into operating its onboard systems. Their suits had the same equipment as his and Kast's helmet, which not only boosted the wearer's chances but also his senses.

But Kast only had the helmet, these guys they were up against were wearing full battle garment, giving them superhuman abilities, such as running faster, leaping higher, able to withstand the pressure of combat longer as well as being able to function longer through the suit's inner monitoring systems.

The exoskeleton could no doubt detect an injury or a wound anywhere on the body of the soldier, and then distribute the needed treatment. The suit itself was alive, acting as a protective outer skin to the wearer. Skar had read articles on this kind of armor in the past, knowing that the materials inside the suit that made it so efficient were minuscule, so small the human eye couldn't even see it without a lens, which meant the suit weighted almost nothing.

Skar sighed. "I think you're right. These guys must've brought it from wherever they came from."

Kast couldn't take his eyes away from the suit, feeling slightly jealous he didn't have the same kind of edge to a combat that they'd had. Skar realized that if he hadn't had his lightsaber they wouldn't have walked away from this firefight.

"Too bad you broke them," Kast said lightly, "I wouldn't have minded trading."

Skar contemplated the idea of stealing an enemy's uniform and using that disguise to move through the plant. But the sensation of anguish he'd felt earlier, that wave of sorrow, told him that these soldiers were connected more than just brothers in arms. They were…close, almost family.

The Empire's stormtroopers had been mindless drones, eager to obey any order. But these - they were individuals, which was why they'd been able to withstand his manipulation. Without a doubt they even knew each other's names, and that meant a disguise wouldn't get them very far.

They would be recognized on the spot. It also meant Skar wouldn't be able to hide from one of these guys using the Force.

Kast padded him on the shoulder. "You alright?"

Skar powered down his lightsaber, his hands still shaking, his entire being trembling. Skar felt another surge of anguish. "No." He forced himself to look at Kast. "I feel…pain. Sorrow."

Skar felt a there-was-nothing-you-could-have-done coming, but thought that Kast was too smart for that. Like himself, Kast would see that even though the lightsaber was the only weapon that could have gotten them out of there as fast as they needed, it shouldn't have been like this. Skar had allowed his rage to get the best of him -

_What rage? _

Skar thought back on when he'd decided to use the lightsaber, he hadn't felt any anger, only resolve. He'd felt no hint of the Dark Side or even second-guessed himself. It had come on its own, it was murder without hate. It was slaughter, not for anger, but because it had come naturally. Skar swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. This had come naturally, without thinking.

"I've never felt sorrow for my enemies, ever," Kast said.

"I didn't say it was my sorrow," Skar muttered and closed his eyes. He found that feeling of sorrow, wrapped his hand around it and traced its source through the Force. Somewhere someone was watching. Somewhere someone was judging and tracking. He could feel the presence of that person, and almost like a two-way link, he could faintly see the person reaching back inside him, staring back at him.

* * *

With a trail of footprints in the snow, as well as drops of blood beside them, Junn made it to the lift at the bottom of the closest structure in the main compound. Gasping in pain, and tears turned to ice on her cheeks, she depressed the switch for the lift with her left hand.

Which was now her only hand.

The blast that had destroyed her rifle had been too quick for her to evade, leaving her with her right hand blown off, ending at her wrist in a bloodied and mangled piece of flesh and bone. She cursed herself, she'd been too cocky, too sure of herself. That's the only reason the Jedi had managed to outdo her. It had to be the only reason. Still she found it remotely comforting that the Jedi hadn't been able to detect her before she'd gotten a round off.

The lift doors opened and she pulled herself inside, closing the doors behind her and pressed the switch that would take her back inside the main building. She slid down the wall of the lift as it rose up towards the base. Junn gathered enough courage to look at her wound, taking two deep breaths before doing so. The hand was completely gone, all that remained was a bone sticking unnaturally amongst the black burnt flesh that had once been her wrist. Junn could still feel the hand, she felt like it was still there. She knew it was just a phantom pain, but she wanted more than anything to prove herself wrong.

It was the worst injury she'd ever endured. She'd been shot, stabbed, burnt, even electrified, but she'd never lost a limb before. She would have accepted her loss easier if she'd at least killed the Jedi. Junn banged the back of her head against the wall in frustration. She didn't want to accept defeat, she couldn't, she was trained not to ever know what defeat was. How was she supposed to fight now? She could get a prosthetic limb, but it wouldn't be the same. She would have to grow accustomed to it and that could take weeks. Who was going to lead the army now?

She didn't know what she was going to say to her General. She'd failed him for the first time. And the pain of knowing she'd done so was far greater than the pain of her wound. Junn gathered her legs beneath her, sunk her head in between her knees.

The tears flowed almost immediately. And she cried so hard her chest began to hurt, her wailing drowning out the heavy mechanics of the lift as it ascended up into the main building.

* * *

Still waiting for an update from the Rancor team, and sick of watching all of his technicians working faster than they were before to restore the power, Kayupa paced the floor. Without warning Kayupa's legs suddenly vibrated beneath him and he had to support himself against the wall to remain standing. A dark spear had penetrated his heart and he could feel the loss of an ally somewhere in the facility. Kayupa gasped and thought he was going to vomit.

A quick touch of the Force cleared the clouds from his inner eye and allowed him to inspect where that horrible feeling was coming from.

He looked over at Derrik. "We've lost the Rancor Team."

He saw the way his shoulders sank, the way his face turned pale with fear. "All of them?"

He nodded, the heavy weight of his heart almost pulling him to the floor. "All of them."

"Was it - "

"That man," Kayupa answered his unfinished question, and slowly but surely he felt the anger that originated from that hollow place where he'd felt his men die. The Jedi was becoming a problem. Play time was over.

He pulled the comlink to his mouth and clicked over to a different frequency. "Sonnet...bring them in."

* * *

They were at their destination, a passageway into the station behind thick sealed doors, when they heard it. At first, it was merely a whisper. A low stalking voice far away, resonating softly off the walls of the tunnel. But it grew. That soft whisper rose into vocalization, a haunting rising and dropping frantic voice. It sounded like grazy muttering, words without sense or meaning, changing instantly between shouting and yelling.

The symphony carved itself way through the confidence of the soldiers, driving its tip straight through their hearts, filling them with fear.

"What the - ?"

And then a light, at the far back of the tunnel from where they'd come. A red light miles away, but still visible due to the tunnel's linear structure. It grew in sync with the voice, closing the distance slowly, but far quicker than any of them preferred.

The light and sound apart, Skar also felt an approaching in his mind. That evil he'd sensed earlier, its beating grew in his mind, encompassing slowly his every sense. That haunting song, the vibrating light and the thick shroud of darkness over his mind's eye...Skar was not easily startled, but even he admitted to feeling afraid.

The soldiers fell into position, raising their shaking rifles at the growing light. Their helmets internal systems worked to give them a better view or even an idenfication of that enemy closing in on them, but none of their systems detected anything.

Skar stood behind their line, lightsaber in his trembling palm, while the pilot cowered behind him.

The light was no where than a mile away when it stopped, freezing in place and flaring bright red. But the voice continued to grow and grow in their ears, falling into yelling and growling.

Skar's fingers tightened on the handle, and he contemplated ordering the soldiers to just open fire upon it. Whoever was doing this, whatever it was, was clearly trying to scare them, weakening them at the same time. Letting them fire at the light would give them some inner sense of control, of fighting back, of stopping that menaching voice.

But before he could give the order, the voice went into full screaming, the roaring sound thundering off the walls of the tunnel, clawing at their ears. The Dragon's Tooth screamed in return, trying to drown out the pain filling their heads.

And that's when it struck.

Not from the mile away that the light has stopped, but to the wall on their right side. In the darkness a swift shadow stepped directly out of the wall, grabbing Call's throat with one hand, pulling the small soldier off the floor.

Skar's lightsaber came to life, the green light filling every inch of the tunnel, except the shadow. The being seemed to be a dark hole onto itself, swallowing every light while remaining as black as night itself.

Skar engaged, but the shadow flung Call's body at him, smashing them both against the wall.

Salvor opened fire, crying out in terror, the bolts striking the shadow dead center at close range, but every bolt seemed to simply vanish itself its darkness, swallowed by its darkness. Before he could understand it, the shadow flung the rifle from his hands with the back of its right hand, sending the rifle flying down the tunnel. Salvor screamed at the top of his voice, up until the shadow jumped onto him, shrouding them both inside its immense cloak. For a second Salvor was there, and the next, when the shadow had moved its cloak over him and emerged beyond him, he was gone, swallowed inside its darkness.

Being closest, Kast was next in line. The shadow dove in at him, but Kast rolled to his side. Stix roared like a wild beast as the shadow moved straight on towards him. The shadow grapped him by the throat and pushed him up against the wall. Kast came around on his knee, rifle ready.

But only in time to see the shadow hug Stix and the wall tight, devourering the big soldier in its blackness and then melting with the wall, fading from sight.

Gone.

Unable to understand the things happening around him, Kast turned around, finding the Jedi, Call and the pilot all still there. Kast could feel his heart beating against his chest, ready to jump from its perch. "What was that!"

The Jedi was about to talk, when the shadow came back out of the wall behind them, snatching up the pilot and fading back inside the opposite wall. Call and Kast opened fire, raining hell upon the walls around them.

Skar held up his blade, ready to protect himself. He had no idea of what kind of enemy they were up against, he'd never seen anyone wield such power, not even from a Jedi. As far as he knew there was no way a Jedi could teleport from one space to another, let alone carry another soul along with it.

The tunnel was filled with the pounding firing of rifles, their muzzles creating lights flickering at an insane speed. Skar reached out to the Force, letting its energy fill him and then spread his awareness out in circles arond him. All he had to go on was the closeness of this darkness, but no detailed estimation of where it was. He only then began to ponder that if it was a being outside of the Force, if such a thing existed, it would be able to be sensed by the Force if it was not a part of it. But if it was indeed the same darkness that he felt around him, it had to be a part of it.

His thoughts were interrupted as the shadow emerged again, this time coming up through the floor. Its own inhuman cry mixed with that of a screaming Call as it continued to fly upwards, fading into the ceiling above them, taking Call with it.

Kast's rifle sent a hailstorm of bolts at the ceiling above him, but hit nothing. Skar closed in, next to Kast, pushing their backs together.

Kast changed the charge in his rifle. "How do we defeat it!"

Unseen to Kast, the shadow emerged through the floor a few feet ahead of Skar, this time manifesting slowly. A dark shape of a man forming itself from the floor itself until it stood face to face with Skar.

Skar swallowed hard and reached out with the Force to Kast. "We don't." He sent Kast into forced sleep, hoping maybe that small action would save the soldier. Kast slumped down onto the floor, instantly out cold.

Skar focused his attention back on the shadow, raising his lightsaber above his head. "Who are you!" he screamed.

The shadow's head slowly began to take shape, edges and corners forming a face. The head took on the pale color of skin untouched by light in a hundred years. Eyes bulged out of the skin, cold dead white eyes staring back at him. The black around the face morphed into a hood that slowly fell upon newly born shoulders, revealing long black hair. Out of its cloak's sleeves came two perfect hands that soon crossed over its chest.

Far down the tunnel behind it, the red light still flared, casting a red sheen around the edges of the shadow man. When he spoke, his purple lips stayed frozen. His words went straight to Skar's mind. _I am Sonnet...I am you._

Skar remembered that voice, from his vision onboard the _Civilian_. "You...you were in my vision?"

The red light behind Sonnet grew as it sped down the tunnel towards them, landing neatly in the shadow man's right hand, in the form of a red bladed lightsaber.

Skar's hands tightened on his own lightsaber. "You're not a Jedi!" he yelled, trying to fight his way out of the nightmare.

Sonnet's lips cracked open to smile. _No...I am not. I am beyond._

Skar could feel the Force surging through, wanting to attack, but feeling it was pointless. And Sonnet just stood there.

"What now?"

Sonnet nodded. _We wait._

Skar frowned. "For wha - ?"

A faint hum broke through the tunnel and soon enough the sealed doors behind Skar were sliced open down the middle like a tin can. The doors remained closed with a smoking melted gash between them. But then the doors began to move, creaking along the floor as they were pulled apart by some powerful force, opening fully to reveal a man wearning a worn coat. The doors slammed shut again with a loud boom behind him.

Due to the poor lighting in the tunnel, a single light fixture above the doors, Skar could only see the man's lips along with the beard that grew around them. And he couldn't help think it looked all too familiar. And when he spoke, Skar's heart was tossed up against the wall in agonizing terror.

"Its been awhile, hasn't it?" Kayupa mused. Kayupa's face was still hidden in the shadows, but his voice carried down the tunnel clearly. "It _was _you," he stated, "that destructive presence I felt." Kayupa took a single step forward, revealing his stern face.

Skar didn't want to believe it. He looked exactly what Kayupa would look like if he was twenty years older. But it was still an older Kayupa, and not the one he'd spoken to in his vision. Why there was a difference he still couldn't understand. He reached out to the Force once again for strength, for guidance.

"Welcome," it sounded nothing like a welcome, "_brother_."

Skar couldn't tell if his own heart was still beating, he was too paralyzed to feel anything but fear. "You're…really alive."

Kayupa's shoulders rose as he chuckled. "Surprised?"

Skar felt the nervous sweat spreading across his skin. "But…she - "

"Failed," Kayupa said strongly. "Her love to you might have been great, but it was no match for me." Kayupa nodded to Sonnet behind Skar, and the shadow stepped back. "You are strongly fated today, brother. You see, you are destined to die."

Skar turned his lightsaber around to protect himself against Kayupa.

The doors behind Kayupa wheeled open again, this time letting a tall slender woman walk through, stepping down small steps to stand aside Kayupa, both of them glaring upon him with scrutiny and blinding hate. Skar could feel the woman's hate for him in the Force, only doubled by Kayupa's roaring confidence and power. His darkness almost overshadowing hers, his being clouding her sensation in the Force, but he could still feel touches of it.

Touches of good inside the woman. The woman turned her hood at Kayupa, smiling all too much for his taste. There was love in that look. Skar felt his knees begin to shake. Kayupa put his arm around her waist and Skar saw the way she folded into his arms, like she was used to them, like she belonged in his arms. Who was she?

"What's going on?"

The woman turned her face to look at him. Kayupa was almost beaming with excitement as he closed his eyes. Skar felt Kayupa closing himself off from the Force, allowing the woman's sensation to shine through in its fullest. And although Skar had never felt that touch before it was familiar. The look on the woman's face, a hint of a smile, as she pulled back her hood, made Skar's knees buckle.

Skar took a step back, baffled. "No, you - "

Her once brown hair had silver running through it and the eyes were the same as they had been years ago in the last hologram he'd seen of her. He couldn't believe she was here. He'd presumed her dead many years ago. Forgetting all about Kayupa, joy set in and soon a set of tears ran down his cheeks, Skar couldn't control his joy. He wanted to run to her and hold her in his arms, hug her like he'd wanted to all these years.

As he'd never had the chance to do. "Sasa?" he said carefully. "Mother?"

She nodded slowly, that smile on her face that he'd recognized so long ago. Although he wanted to embrace her more than anything, Skar started to walk backwards.

Kayupa laughed. "Isn't this touching? Its almost a family reunion."

Hearing his voice shredded through Skar's joy and happiness, destroying that perfect dreamlike moment when he met his mother. Skar's lightsaber came up and he charged against Kayupa, not sure what he was going to do, but he knew he wanted Kayupa out of this moment. To leave him with his mother. He didn't understand why Kayupa was with his mother, or why the way they looked at each other made him sick inside, but he felt he could make it go away by cutting Kayupa down.

He never got far enough as Sasa held out her palm, pushing Skar back. Skar went down hard, sliding the few last feet across the floor, sliding towards Sonnet.

Kayupa laughed. "How's that for bonding?"

Skar pushed himself up, weak and weary from the attack. He lifted his lightsaber in a vain attempt to defend himself. It was then he first realized his mother had struck out at him. She was the one who'd pushed him back. Why, why would she do that? Had Kayupa manipulated her?

Skar turned his frenzied eyes to Kayupa. "What have you done!"

Kayupa only glared at him.

"What's going on!"

The man he'd once called his brother, crossed his arms over his chest. "It's simple really. I've spent the last thirteen years thinking of killing you."

Skar's eyes darted back and forth between the two, not understanding the events that unfolded around him, but knowing too well that something was very wrong with this picture. And Kayupa would die for the way he'd manipulated his mother.

"Thirteen years?" Skar sneered. "Must be a slow thinker, huh?"

Sasa frowned and moved her hand up -

Kayupa gently moved Sasa's hand down. "No, not yet." Kayupa looked beyond Skar. "Sonnet."

Skar got back up and surrendered himself to the Force, throwing himself at the oncoming Sonnet. His green blade came in with a wide left to right slash, intercepted by Sonnet's red blade. The blades clashed, sending sparks over them both, and remained there.

And then, with his free left hand, Sonnet reached out and grabbed hold of Skar's blade, locking it within his fingers. Skar's eyes widened, his fingers should have been burnt right off, but they remained intact, securing a grip on his blade that he couldn't fend off.

Skar looked up to see Sonnet's white featureless eyes staring at him, filling him with fear. Sonnet kept the blade locked with his left hand, now able to remove his own blade, swirling around on his heel, bringing his right hand and lightsaber around in a wide strike.

Skar saw the red blade come around, its light growing and building as it approached. The sound of its vibrant hum was the last thing he heard before it connected with his face. The world exploded in a searing hot pain, and a crimson light that stabbed into his eyes, filling him with fear before sucking him down into the darkness.


	5. The Need For Equilibrium

The sheer thrust of the blue blade was enough for the door to cave inwards, resonating a loud crack and boom down the streets and alleys around the old abandoned building. Rishi peeked inside carefully, his blade acting as a torch. He sent out a investigating wave with the Force, but came up empty. However he was still prompted to continue their search. "You sure you got the address right?" he asked over his shoulder.

Kal stood with his back to the doorway, his eyes searching the surrounding area. "Positive."

Rishi frowned. "The boy could have been lying - "

"I checked with the Force," Kal said calmly.

Rishi rolled his eyes. "Gee, I feel so much better knowing that." He didn't trust Kal to sense a Rancor in the Force before the thing had already eaten him and left him with the rest of the dung. Rishi silenced his blade. "Well, we shouldn't keep the guy waiting."

Kal glanced over his shoulder to look at Rishi quickly and then turned his eyes back to the streets. "I thought you didn't sense anything."

Rishi held out his hands. "I could be wrong."

"Your first time I bet," Kal said as he left his post and went first into the building.

Rishi followed the Jedi who moved with a confident swagger, like the building was really some place quite different in his reality and he felt he had to exude confidence to avoid being rumbled by unseen enemies. Rishi held up a protective bubble around him, moving it across the surfaces and rooms around him to check for activity. The building felt vacant, extremely so, and he began to wish he'd been the one to interrogate the Trandoshan kid, figuring the boy must've lied to the Jedi about this place. All he saw was dusty floors and the inside of a building that longed to die.

Rishi twisted his face behind the Jedi, mocking the man's confidence and air of cognition when the Jedi really had nothing to back it up with. Rishi had met powerful Jedi in the new Order, but this one must've have been at the back of the line when they handed out midiclorian counts. This was obviously a ploy from the Trandoshan.

"Hey, Kal; when the kid was giving you this information - "

Kal held up a finger. "Don't start."

"I'm just saying this place is - "

"Don't start!"

Rishi chuckled to himself. "Alright, fine."

Kal glanced over his shoulder. "If you weren't so cocky, you might actually be helpful."

Rishi shrugged. "Yeah, but what fun would that be?"

But then it came.

An underlying feeling of threat in the Force. Rishi was quick to ready his combat senses but he didn't allow any motion that would let the Jedi know he'd felt something. The Jedi still continued with his swagger through the halls and rooms of the building, apparently completely oblivious to the danger Rishi had sensed close by. The Jedi didn't feel it.

Why hadn't he felt it?

Rishi readied his lightsaber beneath the cloak, keeping his movements and sounds to a minimal, testing the Jedi to see when he would pick up on the threat himself. Rishi definitely felt a presence now, but it wasn't human. All it was in the Force was a background ambience, like the scraping of nails on a wall. But it boggled Rishi tremendously that the Jedi took so long to locate it. He reasoned that it must have been that the Kjoil had a stronger relation to the Force than a Jedi, but if that was the case the future of the Jedi looked very grim. By now Rishi was sure even a human would sense something -

Rishi's inner thoughts were cut short when the threat manifested itself. Three gleaming circular objects rolled into vision ahead of them. The wheel droids curled out, transforming into insectoid-like battle droids. Transparent shimmering shields expanded out around them, as their blaster arms began firing.

The building exploded into activity and motion with the fight that ensued. Rishi was quick to push Kal out of the way, the Jedi still removed from the danger in sheer shock, when Rishi jumped out with his hissing blade. The destroyer droids set the air on fire with deadly bolts as Rishi ran towards them, dodging the blasts, crisscrossing across the grounds as he advanced on them.

Only once did he put up his blade to block a blast, directing it back behind the droids to destroy a concrete pillar. The upper part of the pillar broke off and slammed down on the farthest droid, crushing it beneath the weight, the shield flicking away and the droid bursting into electrical sparks.

Growing more and more furious with the whole situation, Rishi began to think the Jedi must've been knocked out when he'd pushed him aside. The Jedi was still lying on the floor, trying to get up, leaving Rishi to fend off the two droidekas on his own. Rishi reached out his free hand and pulled the Jedi's lightsaber to him, lighting up the second blue blade and charged forth.

Rishi fended off the bolts coming at him easily, even sending most of them back at their shooter. With the return fire stricking their shields, the insectoid droideka started walking backwards on their spidery legs. But before getting anywhere, their shields began flickering beneath the onslaught of their own bolts, revealing a weakness.

Rishi jumped forth, closing the distance between him and the droids, he caught one droid with a blade across its right leg, halting its retreat. With the blue blades swirling around him Rishi sliced off both its blaster arms and left the hulking droid in several pieces before finishing it off with two reverted downward stabs into the face of the droid.

"Kal, get up here now!" Rishi shouted at the top of his frustration and disgust at the Jedi's inability to help.

Tossing the man his lightsaber, Rishi watched as the Jedi came alive with unequaled fury. The man attacked the remaining droid with such swift and forceful moves that Rishi could feel the man's anger and his hatred through the Force. He wondered if the man's anger was a result of embarrasment in himself. Rishi hoped it was. He hoped the man felt embarrassed, he should. Rishi didn't have time to baby-sit. And being a team meant one person didn't do all the work.

The Jedi screamed in anger as he slammed his blue blade down upon the last helpless droid, letting his anger flow freely and uncontrolled as he acted out his shame upon the mechanical assassin. The droid sputtered and crashed down into pieces, letting out one last mechanical moan before dying completely.

The danger faded, Rishi noted in the back of his mind the antiquity of these droids. He had never seen this kind before, but just the design and weapons spoke of a previous generation of droid technology. Strange.

However, he was quickly preoccupied with another matter. A huge warning sign was blaring inside Rishi's head as he looked over at the panting Kal.

_Jedi and anger don't mix._

"Cool it down, alright?" Rishi urged.

Kal still stood over the droid carcasses, his lightsaber humming, lending its own air of tension to the situation. "Back off!"

Rishi killed his own blade. "Were you skipping classes the day they talked about the Dark Side at the Academy?"

Kal glared at Rishi, his lightsaber still alive, a fact that bothered Rishi. "I told you; back off!"

"I'm trying to help you - "

"No!" the Jedi retorted angrily, "you're making fun of me. Just like you've done ever since we met! You think you're so superior."

Rishi snorted. "That's because you're a joke." The moment he'd said it he wished he hadn't, thinking of a way to take the harshness out of his statement again. "I mean…you're not really a Knight, are you?"

The Jedi Knight didn't answer, he just looked away, hissing through his teeth in fatigue. Kal's silence spoke volumes.

"You're…an apprentice, am I right?

Finally the blue blade was extenquished. "An apprentice…my Master died not so long ago."

"What happened?"

Kal knelt down next to the droid corpse, mournfully staring at the object of his anger. "Its a long story. I told Master Skywalker that I wouldn't train with another Master. You know what its like. The one who trains you is more than just your tutor. He's your ally, your friend. The person you trust above anyone else."

Rishi folded his cloak around him. "You felt you would betray him if you finished your training under a different teacher."

"Right," Kal said, "Master Skywalker accepted my decision, but warned me there might be consequences and that it was important that I faced up to my Master's death. That I didn't allow myself to grow too involved in my sorrow."

Rishi sniffled. "But you have."

"Not by choice," Kal fought back, "when I fight, its just more familiar for me to tap into my darker side."

Rishi nodded. "I've noticed your abilities aren't that evolved. It would do you better to finish your training. Don't let your Master's death hold you back, if you stay wrapped up this way you'll end up getting yourself killed because you wanted to honor a dead man. I doubt he'd feel honored that way."

Kal cringed. "You think you know everything, don't you? You think its that easy? Don't lecture me about what I gotta do, I took care of myself just fine before I met you."

Rishi held out his hand towards the scored armor of the battle droids. "But you would have been killed sooner or later if you couldn't sense something like this coming your way. You were too shocked out of your mind to protect yourself. I had to push you away."

Kal stood up. "You sensed they were coming?" Kal's hands balled up into fists. "And you didn't tell me?"

Rishi felt like the rear of a gundark. "I was testing you. To see how far your skills really went. When we were fighting back at the alley - "

"Weren't you the one who preached about trust!"

Rishi opened his mouth -

"You think you're the greatest Jedi there is, don't you? You're so bleeding arrogant that you think you can jeopardize other people's lives just to satisfy your own curiosity! Even back at the alley, you were willing to kill all those people. For what? So you could prove to me how good you were!"

Rishi felt his own anger begin to simmer. "I would have gotten away just fine."

"Yeah," Kal grinned, "sure you would. But you'd have to call for someone to carry all the body-bags!"

"I'm not like you, Kal."

The Jedi snorted. "That's one thing you're right about. I know killing when it can be avoided is wrong. That's what they teach Jedi. Are Kjoil really that different? They don't believe lives are worth something?"

Rishi stepped forward. "Don't talk about something you know nothing about."

Kal didn't stop. "The Emperor managed to wipe out almost all of the Jedi. And you know who helped him? People like you; the Kjoil."

"You're wrong," Rishi defended himself.

"That's what the history books say," Kal went on, "and now I see for myself. You are definitely capable of it."

Rishi couldn't deny what had happened in the past, but it had nothing to do with the present. "I'm not going to go through this exercise with you, Kal. The Jedi past isn't exactly squeaky clean either."

Rishi turned away from the man, hoping that would end the conversation. He was getting pretty annoyed with the Jedi as it was. But in a way he found himself in Master Skar's place when he'd denied Rishi to go to Regana. He now understood what it was like to be dependant and watchful of someone who wasn't ready for what they were getting into. Kal was like that too.

Rishi pointed at where the droidekas had originated. "Let's go; this way."

Their path lead them up several flights of stairs. Neither of them spoke to each other as they searched out the person who'd sent the droidekas after them. Kal walked behind Rishi this time, Rishi blamed that on the Jedi not wanting to be in front if another attack should come. And Rishi could also feel how the Jedi was exaggerating his use of the Force, the guy was almost suffocating Rishi's touch with it, drawing too much of it in. Rishi contemplated lecturing the man on the overkill but thought better of it.

The faster he found Dokyan and interrogated him, the faster they could get out of there and Rishi could get rid of the Jedi. But not without leaving him enough advice and preaching to fill a space cruiser.

Rishi noticed motion sensors on the walls, even some on the floor but he walked through them nonetheless. It was no secret they were here anymore. And motion sensors only meant they were getting closer. It would give them nothing to destroy them. And each time he stepped through a beam he could feel someone nearby reacting to that sensor going off; the motion detectors moved both ways.

Their search led them to a power-recharge unit. There were also three spots on the floor which wasn't covered with dust and what looked like tracks leading out the room. Rishi figured it was here the droidekas had been stationed before someone had sent them hunting. Rishi touched the unit and it was warm under his touch, but not from use, it was alive in the Force.

Dokyan had been here.

"Let's split up," Rishi suggested, "we'll be able to cover more ground. Go back to the stairwell and check the next floor."

Kal glared at him defiantly. "Do you trust me to do that?"

Rishi repressed his anger. "I trust you to want to find this guy too and stay alive. That's enough for now."

Kal took off back the way they'd came.

Rishi used the psychometry talent to lock down a sense of the Bothan's feelings, thoughts and brainwaves through the feeling he'd gotten from the recharge unit. After that it was a walk in the park. He traveled through the building, following the Bothan's scent like a tracker. The Bothan mind was filled with fear and despair which made it stand out in the building like a rancor at an Ewok tribe party.

Rishi used the Force, and the Bothan's tracks appeared like a red line on the floor. Rishi simply followed the line through several levels, through doorways and through many rooms. Rishi blocked out all other distractions and focused on the hunt. He found himself in a room that looked like it had once been a dinning room. The red scent worked its way into the kitchen. Rishi found a fury of old food ration packaging crumpled on the floor. The Bothan had eaten here earlier. Rishi lifted up the crumpled paper, in his mind all covered in red, and reached out to the Force.

The scent became stronger and Rishi followed it out of the dinning room and down the hall. The whole building began to grow a ghostlike sensation to it.

The red scent continued into a large two level chamber with many gangways working across the room. A huge generator was pounding on the lower level, resembling almost a huge beating heart, next to a pair of desk littered with datapads and what looked like very powerful computer consoles.

The generator was glowing bright red and Rishi could feel heat coming off it. He couldn't imagine what purpose the generator had other than powering the consoles, but it seemed a bit much. A maze of huge snake-like cables were running across the floor. Rishi ignored the loud machinery and clatter as he began to feel the presence of the Bothan closing in.

Rishi strolled onto a gangway, feeling the entire room inside the Force. The Bothan was in here somewhere, he was sure of that now. And the Bothan knew he was here too. Rishi began transmitting waves of peace and safety, hoping to snare the Bothan in a trap of benevolence.

Rishi stopped where he was as he felt a warning in the Force.

_Something's coming towards me! Something's - _

The comlink on his belt vibrated.

Sighing and feeling slightly embarrassed Rishi brought it to his lips. "What!"

"Lost Cause here, " Kal said, "I've checked everything and there's nothing here. Where are you?"

Kal began to read more and more as a non-Jedi in his head. The man couldn't even sense where he was. "One of the higher levels, I think our guy is somewhere up here. I've found what looks like a control room."

"Computers?"

"A couple." Rishi remained where he stood while keeping his senses alert for the Bothan who had to be somewhere around here. He could feel it. "But powerful ones. I think this is his workplace."

Kal mock-gasped. "You mean the Trandoshan wasn't lying after all? Wow."

Rishi snarled. The dark loud chamber began to grow on him. It was too obvious a place to hide. Something was wrong. Rishi began to feel maybe he wasn't the hunter after all, maybe he was the hunted. He began advancing down one the gangways that hung suspended over the roaring generator. One hand on the comlink, one hand clutched around his lightsaber.

Again the feeling of uncertainty swam to him on a dark wave. "I've found something that looks like an armory," Kal said.

Rishi felt his warning sense tickle in his stomach.

"And there's a weapon missing - "

Rishi rolled left and came up with his lightsaber ignited, as the red beam shot past his face. Rishi ducked behind a console and shut off the comlink. Somewhere in front of him the Bothan was hiding. He could feel it clearly now; the fear. He peeked around the corner and saw one area of the chamber light up in red with the Force.

_There you are._

"Listen to me! All I want is information. If I bring you in, they won't hurt you, I swear." Rishi felt his grip on the lightsaber get slippery with sweat. "I won't hurt you."

He heard what sounded like a snort somewhere further into the room. "You…you're the Kjoil?" the alien spoke back in Basic.

Rishi wasn't surprised the man knew who he was. He'd been sending bounty hunters after him all week. "Yes. And you're Dokyan, right?"

Another blast flew past Rishi but it was too lousy an aim to even make Rishi move. The shot harmlessly bounced off the wall and fizzled out. Another blast rang through the air. Rishi tightened his grip on the lightsaber.

"Don't make this harder on yourself, Dokyan! You can trust me!" Rishi lied. The first chance he got he would beat the snot out of Dokyan for all the trouble he'd caused.

"You're all out to kill me!"

Rishi supposed the man must've gotten paranoid from all this time alone in this building. Rishi only wished it hadn't come out now. "I'm trying to find out information about the terrorist group in the Sumitra sector! The ones that took over one of the Republic's repair yards and blew up the Senate Chamber!"

He heard the Bothan laugh.

Rishi felt like he was getting nowhere. Thinking of a final resort that would allow him to take the Bothan in alive, he relinquished his lightsaber and tossed it away from himself, he heard it bounce off the gangway before rolling to a halt. He could feel the Bothan picked up on the fact.

Rishi rose to his feet, held up his hands and started walking slowly down the gangway. "Talk to me, we can work things out."

The Bothan stepped slowly forward on the gangway from behind a workstation. He held the blaster trained on Rishi's face but Rishi could feel the tremors in the hand holding the blaster.

Bothans were a short furry, bipedaled creature, native to the planet Bothawui. Dokyan had cream-colored fur and orange eyes. Rishi was hardly an expert on Bothans but he'd once or twice watched Borsk Fey'lya on the Holonet. They spoke with great eloquence and their fur rippled in response to their emotional state. By their nature Bothans were very greedy and excelled in manipulation. They were masters of brokering information, and had a spy network that rivaled the best the Empire or the Old Republic could create. Well known for their intelligence-gathering abilities, Bothans were perfect spies and important players in galactic politics.

The Bothan picked up the lightsaber with his free paw and shoved it into his belt. Rishi shifted a little to the left to leave him with more grounds to move in if he suddenly had to dodge a shot from the blaster.

"I only want to talk," Rishi said calmly, hoping that calmness would rub off on the Bothan.

The Bothan laughed, his fur alive with activity. "Where is your friend?"

Rishi reached out to the Jedi and felt him very close by. "I'm not sure."

The Bothan chuckled humorously as he walked towards Rishi, bringing out a pair of stuncuffs with his free paw while keeping the blaster aimed at his face. Rishi offered his hands and the Bothan slammed them onto his wrist and pushed Rishi down on his knees. "Why are you here, Kjoil?" the Bothan's voice was raspy, almost evil by nature. "I know you have been looking for me. But you are looking for the wrong people. I am not the one you're looking for."

Rishi groaned. "You're the one who supplied Wedder Dhohji with the message from the terrorists. The one my Master was meant to get."

"I did," the Bothan said.

"So you're working for the terrorists."

Dokyan laughed loudly. "What terrorists?"

Rishi growled. "Don't play around with me. I've been through too much to find you already."

"Now you've found me. What do you want to know?"

What was he trying to do? "I told you! Information about the terrorists!"

The Bothan grabbed Rishi by his collar and held him up to his face. "What terrorists!" the Bothan spat.

Rishi didn't get it. "Has being cooped up in here cooked your brain, Dokyan? You know what I'm talking about."

Dokyan laughed. "You've been misled, my Kjoil friend. I do not know any terrorists."

Something very frightening crept up Rishi's spine. "How did you even know I was a Kjoil in the first place? Or even that my Master was?"

The Bothan looked almost bored. "I know everything that happens on this planet - "

"Sure you do."

Both Rishi and the Bothan were shocked to hear the third voice. Rishi looked over his shoulder to see Kal standing behind the Bothan, his lightsaber hilt buried into the Bothan's temple.

"Drop the blaster," Kal instructed.

The Bothan dropped the blaster over the gangway, it cluttered as it hit the floor beneath them. Kal swirled his hilt, igniting the blade as he did, slicing through Rishi's stuncuffs. Kal held his blue blade up under the Bothan's furry throat.

Rishi massaged his wrists as he came up. "Well, Dokyan. Let's see if you feel a little more chatty now. The terrorists. I want everything you know about them - and I will know if you're lying. Even the slightest fib will mean your neck so I suggest you be a little more forthcoming than you've been so far."

Dokyan snarled. "I do not know - "

Kal moved his blade an inch and the air filled with the smell of burnt hair.

"I'm not playing around anymore, Dokyan. Start talking."

The Bothan shuddered, trembling with fear. Rishi could feel his rash and fleeing thoughts bouncing like a ball, saw the sweat running down beneath the Bothan's fur, between those orange emotionless eyes.

Rishi grew impatient. "My friend here may not look it, but he's an excellent barber. What do you say we let him give you a trim?"

He could feel the fear radiating off the alien like a bad stench, mixing with that scent of roasted hair, yet the Bothan still didn't cave. Rishi hadn't expected the alien to put up so much resistance. Bothans were very smart but they were also very paranoid, which meant they were easily startled. Clearly Dokyan was trying to protect someone.

And Rishi was getting tired of it. "Your choice," Rishi nodded to Kal, "shave him down."

"No!" the Bothan screamed. "I'll talk!"

Rishi stepped forward and raised his voice. "Who are you trying to protect, Dokyan! The terrorists! I don't think they'll care about a simple slicer working out of an abandoned warehouse!"

Dokyan's eyes lit up with fire. "Slicer! I'm an informational-liberator!"

Rishi cocked a smile. "So start liberating."

The Bothan snarled, a weak attempt at remaining in control, but eventually even he didn't believed it. The Bothan sighed. "I might as well start at the beginning, with the one fact that seems to have passed you by," his furred face stared at Rishi with obvious contempt, "the Sons of Destiny are _not _a terrorist group."

* * *

Moving swiftly across the roof of the adjacent building, Boba Fett readied all his weapons systems. Despite his heavy armor and equipment the man moved with a stealthy silence. The dark armor allowed him to blend in naturally with the surrounding buildings as he moved from shadow to shadow until he found the perfect spot.

He crouched down on the edge of the roof, instantly turning into a gargoyle, only the movement of his flowing cape betraying his presence.

Fett activated his thermal scope and immediately found the targets he was looking for. The three life-forms lit up red inside his visor, one of them decidedly shorter than the rest of them. On the left side of his HUD a range designator told him the distance in meters between them and him. The three figures were huddled around a desk, the heat of a nearby generator almost shadowing their body heat.

Still frozen in place on the ledge Fett activated his long range microphone, listening in on their conversation.

"…it will take a few minutes, but it should tell you everything you want to know…"

_The Bothan._

Moving his tongue to flick the switch inside his helmet that armed the rocket in his new jetpack, Fett listened in silence.

* * *

Rishi and Kal led Dokyan to his workstation below. Computers were cluttered everywhere and the huge generator still pounded like a giant heart behind them. Dokyan slouched down into the chair at his desk, appearing to have been born into that chair, immediately starting up his computer. Kal and Rishi flanked him, cautious of his every move.

"It will take a few minutes, but it should tell you everything you want to know."

Rishi sighed. "Lets start with what you know."

The Bothan licked his brown leathery lips. "I first heard the name Sons of Destiny about ten years ago. I was a simple slicer then, worked on contract for a guy out in the Outer Rim. He was a mercenary, I broke into security nets for him, confused the coordination of his enemies, making it easier for him to conquer. It wasn't a bad job, he paid me well - "

"Get to the point," Kal said annoyed.

The Bothan complied. "One day I was searching through the Holonet for news and I stumbled over a news story about - it was nothing, one of those casual stories you flip over without giving it a second glance." The Bothan smiled proudly. "What it really was, was a bogus story, all lies and deceit. But it was so professionally done that you wouldn't know it unless you looked deeper."

Rishi didn't feel impressed. "And that's what you did?"

The Bothan nodded. "I did my background checks and came up with some interesting facts. None of the names, places, events or dates in the story matched with anything recorded in galactic knowledge. The so-called riot dispute over rights was completely manufactured, you see? That planet didn't exist, those people never lived - which makes it ironic that it was a story about people claiming their rights as humans," the Bothan chuckled at his own amusement.

Rishi didn't think it was funny, and he didn't feel he owed Dokyan a smile or even a reply.

The Bothan caught the notion. "With my interest peaking I began to study the story under a new light. I scanned the entire story looking for some irregularities - like graphical glitches, typos, hidden messages within the pictures, stuff like that. But it had none of that." The Bothan smiled and lifted a finger. "What it did have, was this!" Slamming his finger down on the keyboard in front of him he brought up the document on his screen, then divided the screen into two, placing a copy of the first document next to it.

"Do you notice anything strange about these two copies of the same news story?" Dokyan asked, rubbing his palms together in obvious delight at sharing whatever it was he'd discovered with someone else.

Rishi read through both documents, it was the same story, word for word. The pictures attached to it were the same as far as he could tell.

"No, nothing."

The Bothan growled. "I see the Force doesn't work as well as optics." Dokyan tabbed his keyboard. "First I'll erase the pictures in one of the documents, so you'll only see the text. The second document will still have the pictures attached. And then I do a word count."

The results flashed on the screen.

Rishi gasped and thought his jaw might hit the floor. "How the - ?"

Dokyan was alive with giddy. "11561 letters, or symbols if you will, in the first document, the one without the pictures," the Bothan's raspy voice was buzzing ecstatically. "And 11570 in the second."

Nine letters had gone missing because of the pictures' absences. Rishi studied the pictures in the second document with more scrutiny. The pictures all showed rioters holding up banners and signs. All of them with symbols more or less readable.

"I can't read the signs, I can make out a few symbols, but that's it."

Dokyan tapped his screen. "You're reading the same thing as the terminal is. It can't read the blurred ones either. But in each picture, one or two symbols are very clear."

Rishi believed he knew where it was going. "And if you piece those readable symbols together - "

"You get this."

The Bothan pressed a button and the two documents vanished, revealing a black screen. Slowly each of the nine symbols began typing themselves over the black canvas. And even before they were halfway, Rishi felt the sweat running down his back, reminding him of the time he'd captured Wedder and found the Kjoil symbol on the surface of the datacard. Even more terrifying than when he'd been confronted by those twenty mercenaries in the alleyway. Even more gut-wrenching than seeing Boba Fett shooting at him. Rishi felt sick, but all the Bothan did was smile victoriously.

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

Rishi read the screen.

Jentarana.

"By the stars - " Rishi managed to say.

The furry alien chuckled. "After that it was easy enough. I ran a search of that word, came up with some very interesting info. I even sliced into every data I could find containing that word, ran the same checks as I did with the first document, and found the same hidden symbols in all of them. Every piece of information regarding this Jentarana, was planted by the Sons of Destiny. Information just like the first document that they'd staged to make a very formal invitation."

Rishi's legs still felt weak. "Invitation?"

"A location. And a date," the Bothan's orange eyes looked like gold in the dusk, "for recruitment into the Sons of Destiny."

Rishi looked over at Kal, and saw the same horror on the Jedi's face. Rishi understood the magnitude of it all, and although it was picking at a fear inside of him he never knew he had, it didn't deter him. It fed him, made him more hungry.

The Bothan went on. "You see, they needed someone so good at slicing that they made a test. Think of it as a job-application. The only one who could break their code, their hidden messages, was me."

Rishi leaned against the table. "What was the location?"

The Bothan chuckled again, his voice loud and booming. "You're sitting in it! This is my workplace. The Sons of Destiny hired me to be their information masker, their data-retrieval expert. The one who had the technical know-how to achieve the kinds of goals they had. Someone who could get into everything. The best in the Galaxy. I've been working for them ever since. Doing their surveillance, planting the information they wanted. I've been their link between them and their more unknowing accomplices here on Coruscant. The senators, the guards, the military; all of them under close surveillance. Learning their weaknesses, learning to find the right kind of information to make every one of them do what we wanted them to do."

Rishi ignored the disgust, but found another one building in him. This time aimed at the Bothan who took so much pride in his crimes. "You said you'd found out about it ten years ago. This has been going on that long." Rishi looked over at Kal, and he could see the Jedi was as worried as he was.

"For ten years?" the Jedi muttered.

The Bothan was beside himself with happiness. "Correct. The Sons of Destiny have controlled everything going on in the Republic for the last ten years, through me. They just don't like to gloat about it. They control everyone, but nobody knows it. Every time the Sons of Destiny needed something done, they'd plant the information through me right in front of a person who would react favorably, because of the information. Lies, deceit and misinformation; its been what's kept the Republic together for the last decade!"

Rishi felt like vomiting. There was a sick hollow feeling in his body. The feeling of being watched. The feeling of being misled.

"I'll give you an example, then." The man's fingers moved over the keyboard and several of the monitors came to life with surveillance tapes of countless rooms and places inside the Republic's buildings.

Rishi saw the face of his Master in all of them, recorded at many different times and places, each clip had his Master in a starring role. There were recordings of him training in a simulator, pictures of him in places and buildings Rishi knew nothing of, clips of him talking to people Rishi didn't know. The final clip shown was of his Master on a balcony. Talking to Skywalker and Rishi himself.

Rishi felt a moment of awe, then anger as he realized his Master had been followed and watched for some time now. He witnessed himself arguing with Master Skar on the balcony, shortly before Rishi had made his departure. The camera angle zeroed in on his Master's face, showing the man's unspoken grief and regret marked across his face in explicit detail.

The Bothan freeze-framed the picture of his Master's longful stare out over Coruscant. "Your Master, he followed the trail of this Kayupa. Walking into an obvious trap, as you stated so perfectly at the time. Why is that?"

Rishi felt a lump in his throat. "He thought someone he knew was behind it. He wanted to know if it was true."

"Do you think he doubted it was the person he knew?" the Bothan asked teasingly.

Rishi swallowed hard. "No."

"You see? You see how easily he fell for their ploy? How easily he was coaxed by the information? All they did was give him a name, and off he went, into a certain ambush. Thinking only of this…friend. All they did...was give him the name, knowing it was his greatest weakness.."

Kal stepped up. "So you're saying this Kayupa wasn't involved?"

The Bothan frowned and shrugged. "I have no idea. I only work for them. I devise their schemes, that's all."

"You set the trap," Kal said.

The Bothan held up his furred palms in surrender. "All I know is what I'm told. I don't know who runs the Sons of Destiny or if there even is a leader. But I know they're masters at what they do. The Sons of Destiny wanted your Master on Regana, and he obeyed, not out of free will, but because of the manipulation, the bait the Sons of Destiny placed in his hands. See how easily the will is betrayed, how easily manipulated people are if you have the right kind of data? I was even ordered to make sure the death of Crip Tyrral did not pass you by, that you knew they were on to you."

Rishi's hand fell to his lightsaber, wanting more than anything to pass judgement on this psychopathic alien. Kal placed his hand Rishi's wrist, calming him slightly. But the fire inside Rishi stayed alive, only showing in the hateful glare he set on Kal's hand.

Dokyan laughed even more. "Look! You're doing it right now, I told you something, and you're reacting! See how easily it works." The Bothan steadied himself and leaned back into his chair. "I'll toss you another little treat, my little Kjoil friend. Do you know what Jentarana means?"

Rishi searched his memory of the Kjoil language but came up with nothing. "It was the name Skind Kjoil chose to give the weapon he built to protect his home-world."

The Bothan snorted. "How ironic that it all comes back to him, the man who founded the Sons of Destiny." The man thought to himself. "Well, in spirit, one might say."

Rishi stepped forward, anger brewing inside him. "What do you mean 'in spirit'? He was dead! He chose the name because it was the name he would have picked for his son, if he'd ever had one."

The Bothan glanced up at Rishi, an unreadable phantomlike expression on his face. "In the Kjoil language and legend, a Jentarana," a creepy smile stretched across the alien's face, "is a child of fate...a son of destiny."

* * *

Rishi sat alone in a corner of the room, far from Dokyan and Kal. Kal was still interrogating the Bothan for everything he knew, and although that had been Rishi's objective too once, he realized he just couldn't listen to anymore. He found that if he believed what the Bothan had told him he would grow mad. Who could back up what the Bothan was saying? How would he know it was the truth? The Bothan seemed sure enough of his claims.

Kal had checked through the Bothan's entire database and found that the Bothan indeed had spent the last ten years inside this building, and that he'd sent coded messages to almost everywhere on the planet. There was plenty of proof that the claims were the truth. Rishi just didn't want to believe them.

With his hands pressed against his skull, Rishi whispered a curse. He didn't want to believe it, but he had no choice but to believe.

_Its too big...its too much._

But in a way, a terrible way, he wasn't surprised. He'd always felt the Republic was acting against common sense, a stupidity and ignorance in all its actions. Maybe this was why? Maybe this was what had propelled him into the life in the underground? But if that was true...was his choice not really then an action of the Sons of Destiny? A reaction to their actions? He started o doubt everything. Everything but the sickening feeling in his stomach, and the undeniable fact that his Master had walked right into a trap greater than first imaginable.

"I can make a man throw away his entire life," he heard the Bothan bragging, "at the push of a button. Some of our targets were good men, no ghosts in their closets, but by analyzing their profile, our research, we could build an opportunity that would lead them onto a path of corruption and then use it against them. Money, women, you name it we've done it. Who would be able to resist their fantasy, if we made it real for them?"

"You sound like a pimp," he heard Kal say.

The Bothan shrugged. "Everyone's for sale in some way or another, we all have prices, desires." Rishi felt the Bothan's gaze from across the room. "Even you two."

Rishi looked up and glared at the furry alien, adding as much hate and contempt he could into his gaze, wishing he could kill the Bothan that easily. Just by looking at him. "Right now…the only thing I want is to see you dead."

The Bothan didn't seem threatened. "But would you follow it? Jedi are the hardest to ensnare, too up-stuck. But there's always a way. No one's perfect. At least not yet. The Republic is doomed to the slavery they've put themselves in."

Kal looked like he wanted to ask something, but was afraid to.

And the Bothan noticed it. "Would you really want to know?"

Kal shook his head after a moment of contemplation. "I guess not. Are there others like you?"

The Bothan shook his head. "Not on Coruscant, certainly. Maybe on other planets, in other galaxies. I doubt the Sons of Destiny, as ingenious as they are, have limited themselves to one universe. But consider yourselves fortunate, you're the first to have gotten this far."

Kal dismissed the Bothan and turned around to look at Rishi. "Who is this…Kayupa?"

Rishi sighed. He knew that story all too well. "Back in the days of the Old Republic, my Master's uncle was known as the greatest Jedi warrior ever, the strongest ever to exist." Rishi narrowed his eyes. "And more than just a warrior, he was a shrewd politician and a clever strategist. He was the pinnacle of the old Jedi Order, revered and respected. But eventually his feelings drove him mad and he became obsessed over a woman. It lead him into corruption, into the Emperor's hand. He strayed from his Jedi ways and became a Sith Lord."

Kal looked dumbfound. "A Sith?"

Rishi nodded. "Before his turn he created a superweapon called the Jentarana, which could only be guided by a Jedi, and only by him. In his Sith days he was about to turn that weapon over to the Emperor in exchange for access to a Sith afterlife where he would be reunited with the woman he loved, in death. Master Skar's mother tried to stop him and Skind took his own life once he'd realized what he'd done. But instead of joining with the woman he loved in the afterlife he was imprisoned in the place where he died as a spirit, as a ghost."

Rishi inhaled deeply, like he was searching for an inner center to calm his emotions. Some place far away where the world made sense and everything wasn't so complex.

When he couldn't find one he continued. "Before his death he was cloned by the Empire because of his skills. The clone of Skind Kjoil was turned over to the Jedi Master who taught my Master; Master Bo-Hi Dzog, and he was schooled and trained as a Jedi in the hopes that he would one day help bring the Republic back to life. Some thirteen years ago they found my Master on Nar Shaddaa and he went with them hoping to become a Jedi and learn about the Force. He became friends with the clone, not knowing he infact was a clone. Eventually they journeyed to take the Jentarana back. It was only as they were about to succeed that mission that he learned the truth. The clone killed his Master and he wanted Master Skar to kill him, so he could escape his fate as a clone. Once he died and the Jentarana was destroyed Skind Kjoil's spirit was freed." Rishi lowered his head. "The clone's name was Kayupa, the man that supposedly has now taken over the repair yard."

"But you said he died?"

"Obviously he didn't. I think…My Master thinks that Kayupa may still be alive."

"You think he's the head of the Sons of Destiny?"

Rishi shook his head. "I have no idea."

Kal nodded and turned his eyes back to the Bothan. "So…how does it feel to betray an entire planet? An entire government?"

The Bothan hardly budged, he just gave Kal his most fiendish smile yet. "All too easy."

Kal flinched. Rishi felt the sudden anger erupting inside the man. He was amazed how Kal was able to hold it back and not beat the Bothan senseless. Had it been Rishi he doubted he would have been able to stop.

"What do the Sons of Destiny use their manipulations for?" Rishi asked.

The Bothan looked at him. "They're going to topple the government and create a new one. They believe its their fate, their destiny, hence the name."

"A government built on lies," Kal added.

The Bothan's eyes turned to slits. "The New Republic isn't that much different. They're also dishonest and weak. They brought this on themselves - "

Rishi stood up. "No. _You _brought this on them, through your deceit and your lies. Don't sit there thinking you're doing the world a favor! Nobody ever asked you to change the way our world works! And don't even for a second assume you know how the Republic works. The only thing you know about the Republic is how to destroy it!"

Internally Rishi realized he was blaming the Bothan for all the things he'd ever disliked about the Republic in his time here. Everything that he'd objected to, everything he'd felt was wrong about it, he traced back to the Bothan. And he wanted more than anything to kill the man who'd taken away the freedom from all the people in the Republic. This pathetic little alien that thought he was so powerful, and the creep even dared to brag about it.

"In the end, you're just another puppet," Kal taunted.

The Bothan's eyes darted to Kal, his fur rippling with anger. "I'm not a puppet, I'm the puppet master!"

Rishi felt his hands balling into fists. "You're nothing but another victim of the control you've helped spawn. Just another asset. You think they give a damn about you?"

The Bothan's eyes made the slightest hint of motion, as it quickly looked at somewhere behind Rishi. The Bothan forced his eyes back on Rishi, but Rishi saw it.

Rishi looked to where the Bothan had looked and saw a tiny camera filming them all, hidden inside a hole in the wall. Rishi couldn't help feel the irony was perfect. "Someone at this very moment is watching us."

Kal grabbed the Bothan by the collar. "Why are they monitoring you?"

The Bothan's fangs were in plain sight, his fur alive with activity. "I don't know."

Rishi walked towards them. "Is it possible you have flaws too? Weaknesses."

Kal pulled the Bothan to his face. "Which are you? A rebel or another prisoner? A captive of your own creation, your own nightmare."

The Bothan hissed through his teeth with repressed anger.

"Why don't they trust you?" Rishi said as he stood beside the two. "What do they have on you?"

"Those people you worked for before," Kal mentioned, "you sold them out for a better deal. Are they afraid you'll do it again?" Kal grinned. "I don't blame them. Bothans are not the most reliable sort; always back-stabbing for more profit, more power."

"Someone's already tried, haven't they?" Rishi pushed. "Someone's on to you. Who?"

The Bothan pushed Kal's grip away and sat back in his chair, his face twisted in vengeful anger.

"Listen; the Sons of Destiny are not - "

Rishi heard the window pane in the ceiling above them break into millions of shards and less than a second later a trail of fire came crashing down like a fireball. Rishi managed to jump aside as the missile came striking down between them, obliterating the center of the room in a huge explosion.

Rolling to safety as far away from the strike as he could, Rishi could feel the Bothan's life slowly fade somewhere in the chaos of burning computers. But he was still alive, Rishi could feel him in the Force but the alien's life was fading with each second. Rishi was surprised that the Bothan had survived such an impact, since the alien had been closest to the rocket's explosion while Kal's presence had dimmed away to almost nothing on the other side of the room.

Rishi couldn't believe what had happened. And yet as he saw the rocket man descending through the hole in the ceiling, landing gently in the center of the missile's impact zone, he could believe it.

Rishi felt an exhilaration flowing through him, his body quickening at the prospect of fighting Fett fairly. But before he could even begin to mount a plan he felt a stabbing sensation in his right shin. And as he looked down he found a piece of sharpened shrapnel digging into his flesh, painting his leg and the floor in a crimson red.

Rishi tugged at it violently, eager to attack Fett as fast as possible, but the pain magnified a thousand times when he tried to wrestle it free. His hands came away slick with his own blood and he looked up in growing horror as he realized once again Fett would have the advantage.

Instantly moving, Boba Fett wheeled around and found the Bothan lying in a shamble of destroyed and smoking equipment behind him. His knees bending slowy , Fett crouched down next to the whimpering Bothan, the hunter's emotionless helmet bowed down to face the Bothan as the alien took its final breaths. It was obvious the Bothan was in extreme pain, the explosion having burnt almost all of his fur away and left the alien a smoking hulk of roasted fur and flesh.

Fett's visor lit up in the surrounding fire, and the nearby flames danced over his armor, throwing shadows across the room.

"Why…why..." the Bothan managed to ask through painful gasps.

Although he found it hard to believe Rishi saw a shudder run through Fett's armor, like the shiver of cold air, and if he didn't know better from all the legends he'd heard about the merciless Fett, he might have tempted to say it looked like the hunter was feeling remorse. Shame.

Pity.

Rising again, the bounty hunter resolutely freed his sawed-off EE-3 rifle and fired two bolts into the Bothan's chest for good measure.

As Rarsk died, Rishi felt something not adding up in the back of his head. Wasn't Fett working for Rarsk? Why would he kill him? Rishi thought hazily. Was it a mercy kill? Somehow the idea of Fett feeling any pity for his victims sounded wrong. One didn't get as far as him and become as infamous as he had by being soft. But then again he hadn't gotten this far by failing. Had Fett really wounded and then later had to kill Bothan by accident?

As he watched, Fett then looked over Kal's unconscious form nearby, the rifle following his eyes, but for some reason he didn't kill the Jedi. Fett's helmet turned to look at Rishi and Rishi could swear he saw a malignant smile behind the T-shaped visor.

Fett began walking towards him and even though every part of Rishi screamed to defend himself, to get back up and fight the hunter, he couldn't. He tried to crawl away but his body was too paralyzed by fear to move, too shocked to even think of getting back up. He couldn't move. His body _wouldn't _move.

Rishi trembled where he laid, Fett was already standing over him, that faceless mask glaring down at him, the fire nearby highlighting his armor and portraying the hunter as some sort of invincible deity in the midst of the engrossing fire.

"You…killed him?" Rishi stuttered.

Shaking his head so little that Rishi wasn't sure the helmet infact moved, Fett raised his rifle against his shoulder to bear down on Rishi. "Everyone dies," Fett's scrambled voice stated coldly.

Before Rishi could even think of going for the lightsaber, Fett's rifle lit up and Rishi's world turned blinding bright before turning sickeningly dark.

* * *

Betrayal.

Of all the things he was feeling this one he was sure of, he felt betrayed. Everywhere he looked he could see Kayupa and his mother staring at him, their eyes filled with hatred directed towards him. The feeling of betrayal was all he had to latch onto, it was the only thing that kept him sane. And with it came small streams of anger and guilt, even some hate of his own. Hating felt good, revenge felt even better. The prospect of someone dying, anyone dying, gave him a center, a motivation. A reason to not just keel over and die.

As soon as he could get his hands on a weapon he knew he would feel better. Betrayal was a very underestimated emotion in his book. It could do wondrous things, it was a healing emotion. And the anger kept him warm inside. As much as he knew these emotions were corruptive and wrong, he found himself feeling comfortable with them. It was all he had.

All he had, aside from the pain.

Skar felt encircled and surrounded by torment, mostly physical but some of it came from his own mind, his own thoughts. Like waves his own failures and regrets came crashing against his resolve, weakening him, making it easier for the physical agony to creep its way through his defenses, finding berths from which it launched calculated attacks on his body and his strength. He felt pain writhing up his legs, his feet felt like they were burning, an engrossing pain that washed over him in waves, making him shake and stutter. His mind moved in circles, feeling pain, finding a way to defeat it, finding failure, feeling the pain anew.

He awoke in the dark cold chamber, wearing only his pants and no boots, tired and beaten. His feet hung inches off the floor, which he almost couldn't see in the darkness. His chest was heaving, struggling to breathe, the sides of his rips pounding in pain, hammering like the pain in his head. His tussled hair hung over his face, drenched in sweat. His stomach ached from hunger. He heard muttering voices, some mocking and some rasping with evil. He couldn't open his swollen eyes yet, but the pain in his stomach and the dizziness in his head made him want to heave. Skar could feel that his hands were tied and his legs bound to something that felt like a metal wall.

The cold metal sent chills down his back but he lacked the strength to flinch from the sensation. He felt his long sweaty hair draped over his face, and thought he tasted blood when he swallowed, which in itself sent an indescribable pain down his body.

_Let it be a dream..._

_A very, very bad dream…_

His eyes tried to find light in the chamber but none would reveal itself. He couldn't move, except for his legs but they were too strained and weak to even twitch from the pain. He concentrated the strength to his eyes and began to open them. He could see light, two figures standing before him. Skar saw his mother leaning against the wall to his right in the silo-like chamber.

But before he could concentrate on her presence he looked over his shoulder to see what it was that held him above the floor in the darkness. Looking into two dots of red light, he saw a metal face. A droid. Instantly he knew that it was a detainment droid holding him. Detainment droids floated on repulsors above the floor and they had binders which secured their prisoners in an iron-grip. He could feel four sets of arms locked across his chest and stomach. A single set of hands held his wrists at the small of his back, he couldn't move them.

He could feel the clammy sensation of his sweaty back against the cold metal-casing serving as the droid's skin. He coughed and spat mucus on the floor.

The darkness fluttered before his eyes, little stars dancing back and forth. He could smell something close to vomit nearby. Voices were taunting him. Mocking him. He could hear at least three people conversing nearby, talking about him. He lacked the strength to talk, his jaw felt broken. The voice that had spoken before sounded close enough for him to believe it was Kayupa talking. What was Kayupa doing with his mother, and how had he survived? Why was he still alive?

His mind flashed before him, remembering what had put him in this position. He'd been placed in a cell. He tried to figure how long ago that had been but he failed. It could have been days, hours, or weeks, he told himself. Even months. Or was today still today?

_I really don't know._

The very last thing he remembered was Sonnet's red lightsaber connecting with his face, a fact that should have left him blind, not to mention dead. Yet there was no damage done to his eyes, and although he left immense pain, the fury inside his heart let him know that he was not dead.

Not yet.

Skar gave up trying and surrendered himself to confusion as a square of light appeared around the edges of a door before him, the door opened and in walked the man who had destroyed his life. Kayupa. The door slid shut behind him, and the man walked into the small light beam that activated between them as he approached.

"How are we doing, brother?"

Skar spat his own blood at the man but it didn't hit him, instead it just ran down his own chin as Skar charged against the droid's hold on him, eager to choke the terrorist to death. He wanted to shout but his voice was surprisingly weak after so long in captivity, not having used his tongue in longer than he could remember.

Out of the corner of his ear's range Sasa spoke.

"You called him brother?"

Sasa was talking to Kayupa. Talking about the friendship between him and Skar. A friendship Skar was regretting for every second that went. As well as his inability to destroy Kayupa once and for all.

He longed to be close to her. He remembered feeling much younger, like a little boy again, he had felt like his mother's son when he'd seen her, even when she was standing next to Kayupa. Even when she'd attacked him, he could still recall the feeling of joy.

That joy seemed a million miles away now. He tried to muster enough strength in the Force to reach her but failed. He tried opening his eyes, wishing to see her again, if only briefly, but couldn't.

"That was in the past," Kayupa answered her.

Skar couldn't say he didn't share the same sentiment. He couldn't agree more. Skar looked up to see Kayupa, standing before him with his arms crossed and a dark evil glomming from his eyes. Skar spotted hatred in those eyes.

"This is my wayward brother," Kayupa stated to no one with a vicious snarl on his lips, "he taught me everything. The one who made me. The reason I still exist. My old friend."

Skar wanted to talk, wanted to curse the clone to hell, but his jaw felt broken. He couldn't talk, and even if he could he knew cursing Kayupa was pointless. It hadn't worked before. Skar looked at Kayupa, feeling his own hatred for the clone peaking inside his heart.

"I'm - " was all he managed to get past his lips, that single word sending a million aches down through his throat and spine.

Kayupa tilted his head, raised his brows. "What?"

Skar took a deep breath, and mustered the strength to defy the pain, finding his hate to be an excellent motivator. "I'm not your brother!" Skar screamed, each word shooting lightning down through his body, through his every cell. But he was glad he said it, the pain was bearable if the soul was released.

After a while, killing off the uncomfortable silence, Kayupa chuckled amusedly by Skar's outburst. Finding the strength to do so, Skar looked to his mother. Saw her staring at him with a hatred he couldn't understand. Why did she hate him? What had he done to deserve her animosity? He'd lived his whole life trying to live up to the guidelines and path that she'd laid out for him. He'd done everything he could to make their sacrifice worthwhile, the sacrifice she had made so that he could become a Jedi. What was she doing next to Kayupa? Why was she working with him?

Skar grew more and more convinced that Kayupa must've manipulated her, turned her into an ally. Turned her against him. Skar felt the fire building in his veins. The anger he felt overshadowing any thought. He would kill Kayupa for manipulating his mother, kill him for whatever sinister purpose he had brought her into.

Kayupa glanced over his shoulder at Sasa. Their eyes met and there was a mutual understanding and grotesque love in their eyes. Strained and weak from the entire experience Skar decided he would need to replenish his strength soon if he was going to stay awake.

Skar reached out to the Force -

And felt nothing. At first he blamed it on his tired mind and tried again, but he felt the same hollow emptiness inside. A cold well that had once housed an endless reservoir of strength and clarity. The place inside him that had always been warm and giving was now blank and vacated, stripped of it previous power.

It took Skar a few moments to come to grips with the fear.

He had _lost _the Force.

Kayupa smiled briefly to Sasa and then concentrated his eyes on Skar again. "What's the matter?" Kayupa's smug grin mocked him. "Did you lose something, hero?"

Skar wanted to look at his mother again, hoping to find some love in her eyes for him, but Kayupa kept him solely focused. "What have you done!"

Kayupa held out his palm towards a third body in the chamber. Sonnet sat on the floor to his right, his eyes closed beneath the rim of his hood, his pure pale face very concentrated. The Jedi, if that was what he was, was secluded inside the Force, and then it occurred to Skar that the person must've been blocking Skar's touch with the Force. It took a very powerful individual to do so to another Jedi. But having seen Sonnet perform so many other tricks, this must have been the easiest the man mastered.

"How does it feel," Kayupa asked, "to be human?"

Skar bowed his head down. "Its not so bad. You should try it sometime."

"The block is only temporarily. I have something a lot more permanent in mind for you," Kayupa glanced at Sonnet in the corner, "but for now it will have to do."

Skar coughed. "Permanent?"

Kayupa smiled fiendishly. "I'm having a shipment of ysalamiri brought in."

Skar snorted. He understood what Kayupa was saying. Ysalamiri were slender, gray-furred creatures that created bubbles devoid of the Force, native to the planet Myrkr. The bubble could be up to 10 meters in diameter. Skar felt enough confidence to make a grim smile. "They won't be much good after I kill them."

Kayupa held out his hands. "By all means, kill them. It won't matter much."

Skar didn't get it. "If I kill them - I could use the Force again." Skar turned his vengeful eyes to Sonnet. "I'll even kill the prodigy over there."

Kayupa laughed. "Killing the ysalamiri won't do much good. Once they arrive we're going to perform a slight surgery. You see, I intend implant ysalamiri genes inside you - namely the part of them that shields them from the Force."

Skar began to fight against his restraints, but figured it would be pointless. "No - "

Kayupa's face was stone. "You'll be forever blinded from the Force, just another human. The operation is irreversible, my old friend."

Skar lowered his head, the thought of being blocked from the Force forever terrified him deeply, but as long as it wasn't done yet he figured there would still be a chance to escape that fate. "Why - why am I here? Why didn't you just kill me?"

Kayupa flinched for a second, and even through Skar didn't feel the Force he still believed to have spotted a weakness in his old friend's armor, in his resolve. Kayupa gave him a silent stare for a while before talking. "You'll be dead soon enough, my friend. Don't worry."

Skar kept his eyes on him and nodded towards Sasa. "What did you do to her?"

Kayupa's jaw tightened.

Skar grew more angry. "What did you do to her, you sick piece of - "

Before Skar could regret his words Kayupa swiftly punched his face sideways with a powerful blow. Skar's head snapped back and he felt an incredible warmth rushing through his head. The blow magnified the pain he was already dealing with, but Skar managed to look back up, seeing Kayupa looking down at him. Kayupa spat in his face once before turning back around. His mother was standing right next to him, but she didn't help him.

She just stood there.

_Why aren't you on my side, mother? _Skar exhaled, letting his pain drift with his breath. "Is it love, Kayupa? Does she make you feel human? You're not human, you're nothing but garbage - "

He felt the invisible hand wrap around his throat, choking him, preventing any more words from leaving his lips. Kayupa's outstretched hand closed in a fist. "Who are you to talk about being human?" Kayupa said with great vehemence and disgust. "Look at you, you don't even know who you are." Kayupa pointed at his clothes. "You wear that suit to remind you of someone else, someone who was stronger. Someone you admired because he had what you didn't! Your lightsaber blade is colored the way it is to honor your old Master, to honor both of them, thinking it will endow you with a sense of strength." Kayupa shrugged. "Or maybe…its shame from your inability to save them. Your betrayal."

Skar fought against the invisible grip on his throat, summoned all the strength he could borrow and screamed through the chokehold. "You shut up!"

As the powerful cry echoed through the chamber, Kayupa stepped back two steps, his hand falling to his lightsaber on instinct. Skar almost didn't catch it, trying to fight back the chokehold, but he managed to catch a glimpse of Kayupa's worried face, saw Kayupa looking very surprised, almost startled.

And he saw Kayupa look to Sasa, for guidance. Sasa had the same worried expression on her face that Kayupa had. He'd surprised them somehow. He wished he could touch the Force to find what it was that had them startled.

The hand around Skar's throat slowly faded away, and Skar couldn't resist striking a confident smile. "You scared, Kayupa? You should be."

Kayupa's knuckles cracked once by his hilt, and then met his other at the lower of his back. "It must be… tiresome, not being sure who you are, fighting to find some name to put on your own tombstone. Trying not to be just a mirror of another man."

Skar spat. "Don't talk as if you know me, Kayupa. We parted a long time ago. Whatever you got planned here, I'm going to stop it. Don't act as if you have any idea of who I am anymore - "

Kayupa snickered carefully, a glance thrown Sasa's way. "On the contrary; Its _you _who don't know who you are. Still trying to live up to the legend, and failing miserably."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Skar asked.

Kayupa held his fists at his hips. "It means there are some things about me you have yet to learn and I'm running out of time for games." Kayupa cracked his neck once, and then drew his blaster in a right-handed move so fast Skar didn't realize it right away.

On reflex that should have come much sooner, which told Skar she hadn't been expecting it, Sasa moved and jumped between them.

"Koll, no!"

Skar's insides deflated so fast it felt as if the world had lost all gravity, his insides pulled down into a black hole beneath him. The world turned upside down, tilted around and bounced off nothing, creating only a cavity in everything Skar knew to be true. That name, the name from so long ago, a name that Skar had barely thought of in a decade, a man he'd never thought of. The shock drove through Skar's mental defenses and left him exhausted and weak as if he'd just ran across the Galaxy. Skar saw his mother standing before him, protecting Skar from the blast.

And the man, Koll, was glaring down upon them both.

"Koll…Riokon." Skar said the name carefully, fearing if he rushed it, it all might vaporize into a hazy dream. Skar looked back and forth between them, franticly thinking of ways possible for them to be alive. Skar couldn't take his eyes off them.

His parents.

They looked so much like him. He was lost in the unexplainable feeling, the room dissolved around him. There was only the moment where he met his mother and his father. He was taken aback by how much the man reminded him of Kayupa, but Skar remembered how he'd previously been mistaken for Kayupa. They bore a resemblance to each other that was almost startling. Kayupa had been a clone of his uncle, which was why they looked so much alike. Skar could see pieces of himself in his father's face, and the joy of the reunion overtook him with such strength he didn't even think about why he was still bound to the wall.

Koll holstered his blaster and pulled Sasa close roughly. She seemed to struggle inside his grip, wanting to be free from his hands, but he sent only an angry glare her way.

On top of the millions of questions Skar wanted to ask, one stood out. "You? But you died?" Skar mustered.

Koll Riokon laughed, while Sasa struggled inside his firm grip. "Death is not a tangible thing. Death can be faked, and it can be avoided." Koll placed a small kiss on Sasa's forehead, pushed her aside like she was nothing and then walked towards Skar. "During the Clone Wars I grew a very strong dislike to the Republic's way. The war changed the Republic into a much more fragile government. They were desperate, and as such they executed desperate measures. Me and my Jedi brothers were sent into combat against impossible odds, assured to not survive, but we had no real choice. The Republic favored sacrificing me and my brothers before admitting that things were out of control."

"I was sent into the battlefield with a battalion of men, a war-zone gone completely haywire. The Republic sent my group there only to appease its commitments to their loyal members. We weren't meant to survive, we were only meant to try; giving the Republic an excuse to say the least. The same way you were sent in, the soldiers joining you, they too were victims of sacrifices orchestrated by the New Republic."

Skar nodded, still suffering with that feeling of unreality from being, from meeting his parents. "What about Sasa?"

Koll explained. "Before my departure I told her that I wouldn't be coming back. That she would soon receive word that I had fallen in combat. And she did." Koll smiled. "I stayed dead, along with other Jedi who had sensed that something wasn't right. Together we devised plans and ideas for how to proceed. We couldn't go back. Coruscant was the last place we wanted to see ever again. Some of us left the Galaxy, never to be seen again. Sasa left Coruscant behind and we traveled into the Unknown Regions, hoping to find something or someone else worth fighting for."

Skar looked at his mother, standing behind Koll with her back turned to them both. Though Skar was no longer Force-sensitive he could see some sorrow in the way her shoulders slouched. Skar wished he could use the Force to calm his emotions, to find some clarity in it all. Skar tried to smile, feeling a gentle warmth inside. The thought of his parents being terrorists targeting the Republic for some reason, didn't even register; nor the fact that he was being held a prisoner by them and that they were using a Jedi to block his touch with the Force. Or that they planned to take away the Force from him for good. His father had even continued to keep up the charade as Kayupa before finally revealing himself.

It then dawned on Skar that they'd been using the Kayupa name to lure him here, for a purpose he had yet to realize.

"Why did you pretend to be Kayupa?"

Sasa turned on her heels, leaving the room and leaving Koll alone with Skar. Koll looked back at Skar, a disgusted look on his face. "Its very simple. _You _are the clone of Skind Kjoil, the one who killed my son."

Skar's world crashed in on itself. "No - "

"And I must say; for a dead man you look very healthy…_Master_."

* * *

Several minutes had passed since Koll had told him, and yet the chamber was still silent from those last words. Skar refused to buy into it, it was another ploy but for what reason he couldn't pinpoint. Something was wrong, they couldn't be right. He was he, he was Skar Kjoil. He'd fought feverishly to find out who that person was, he wasn't about to let that go now. What he'd heard, what he'd been told, was working through his memories and his thoughts trying to find some evidence that would contradict what they'd claimed. Something that would prove it was a lie, nothing more. But he couldn't.

Koll might have been right, but all he had said had been merely words. There was no physical evidence. And as long as evidence was absent he found he could still maintain some level of control over himself. He wasn't going to let them take it away from him.

_Lies, that's all. Just lies…_

Skar took in a deep breath.

_Please, let it be lies._

He tried to fight it at first but it came on its own, his mind needing to think through every possible scenario with this new data. Filling him with a hollow sickness, he couldn't help think that if Shinran's child had ever been born, if Koll was right, the child would be Skind Kjoil's son.

Koll leaned against the wall, studying Skar's painful look as his eyes wandered from place to place, trying to find something that would make it go away, something that would make him feel better. But there was none, there was only the cold chamber and those words still echoing in the back of his mind.

_You are the clone of Skind Kjoil._

Skar bit back the nausea in his stomach, and stared at Koll with all the strength he had left. He wanted to say something but he didn't know what. He had nothing to contradict what he'd been told, no hard evidence to give him back what they were trying to take from him.

Strangely enough, the real Kayupa now hovered like a spirit in the back of the room, right next to Sonnet, watching the proceedings with a tilted head, morbidly curious at the situation. Skar could hear Kayupa's breathing but he wasn't sure anyone else could. Considering the idea that Kayupa really was Koll's son, it felt odd that Koll didn't give Kayupa any attention. He was just there, and Skar believed he was the only one who could see him, hear him. But why, he didn't know.

It hurt him to realize that Kayupa's ability to remain a spirit was because he had a soul of his own, that he never was just a cloned soul. Kayupa's eyes shone with some sympathy, and that lended Skar enough strength that he was able to hold back crying out to him. Something told him Kayupa was on his side, and not Riokon's.

Skar stumbled over words. "I can't…believe it."

Koll tilted his head. "I know you weren't aware of the truth before this, and I'm sorry I had to play you for a fool. But even though you won't believe it," Koll whispered, "it is the truth."

Skar shook his head. "It's…it's not true."

Koll pushed away from the wall, walking over to stand right before him, his eyes showing some pity. "I suppose no one ever told you about the kind man he really was. You know only the legends and the terrors he produced. Maybe that is how he should be remembered, but there was another side to him." Koll's voice took on a level of sadness as he remembered the past. "We were best friends once, as close as being brothers as two people not related could be. He taught me, and mentored me in the Order. Everything I know came from him."

Koll's look turned painful. "But after Selia came into his life, his priorities changed. And the fire that fueled our friendship, burned a hole between us. His turning to the Sith I didn't mock. I knew how much he loved her. But...Sasa joined him not long after, and together with the Five Epigones they started their rebellion. They stole the Jentarana and Skind was going to sell out the Epigones and his sister in return for the knowledge about afterlife that the Emperor had."

Skar compared what Koll said to what he remembered from the Holocron. "She joined her brother?"

"Only partially. I managed to persuade her about Skind's intentions to sell her and the Kjoil out for his own winnings. That's when they called each other out and wanted to settle it all. Skind challenged her on Kryuu, hoping to kill her to obtain Selia's old lightsaber. You know the rest. He came to his senses and took his own life, but his terror would continue for years to come."

"The Republic found the Jentarana and the clone baby. What about Sasa? Did she return to the Jedi Order?"

"Not quite. The Jedi Council restored her title and position but under some special restrictions. As this went on, me and Sasa grew more and more wary of the changes we'd been through in the past. We began to see things in a different light. The Clone Wars were our easy escape from the Republic, and we pulled back into hiding. The fool Bo-Hi snatched you on Nar Shaddaa before we could. It was our plan to use you against the Emperor."

Skar looked over at Kayupa's ghost. "And you missed out on Kayupa too?" He turned his gaze back to Koll. "What is it you really want?"

"Liberating Coruscant is the first step, however this isn't about personal glory - "

"Revenge _is _personal," Skar snarled.

"It's...moved beyond revenge, my old Master, I no longer want to destroy the Republic as much as I feel it is my duty, my destiny. But if you're referring to my revenge upon you, I assure you it is but one small step."

Skar swallowed blood. "Is that why you called me out here?"

Koll looked confused. "Called you out?"

"The datacard...the one you had Wedder Dhohji deliver to me...the one with the Kjoil markings. It was a message to me, wasn't it? You sent it, tricked me into coming out here so you could kill me."

Koll smiled lightly. "And who is Wedder Dhohji?"

Skar longed for strength. "The information broker."

Koll's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? I didn't know until you showed up in that tunnel that you were even involved with this. I knew you were somewhere on Coruscant, but I, as well as Sasa, decided against facing you there in person, knowing you would die eventually once my plans came to full fruition as long as you stayed on Coruscant."

Skar could discern no lie, but it didn't make sense. "Then...someone else sent the datacard...to lure me out here."

Koll scratched his chin. "Yes...so it would seem. Interesting. But it is little consequence now. I will deal with this matter in due time."

Skar continued to speculate. "The bombing of the Senate?"

Koll shook his head. "Not our doing. One of Skywalker's past Jedi apprentices, a young man named Brakiss, is responsible for that. His motives are beyond me, but his timing is perfect. The Senate is in an uproar and it has left the Republic with limited means to defend itself against us," he turned away from Skar, a fatigue in his shoulders. "You yourself must see what kind of world is needed. War and drastic change is all that seems to drive evolution forward anymore."

Skar frowned. "No matter what you do, you'll be remembered as a killer, a terrorist, nothing more. How are you gonna explain future generations that you killed their parents so that they wouldn't have to learn to fight for themselves?"

Koll scowled. "Future generations? Since when was there any thought about the future in you, brother? You were always too busy obsessing about the past, about the woman you lost." Koll's rage built up, his voice becoming a thunderstorm. "When did you ever give a damn about what your actions meant! You never cared for anyone but yourself!"

Skar felt Riokon's anger and used it to feed his own. "I'm not Skind Kjoil!"

Koll pointed his finger at him. "That's why I hated you, you only thought about yourself! You tried to turn my wife against me! You told her I was in the way of your plans!" Koll clutched his own hands in anger and fury. "But you never had any plans, except your atavistic desire to raise Selia from the dead! You manipulated Sasa, making her think she was part of some great plan of yours, but the truth is you were just afraid I would take her away from you, isn't it? But she loved me too much, to listen to you." Koll held out his hand as a fist. "And now, soon, I'll have my redemption. I'll kill you and then I'll create something so…_empowering _that the Galaxy will forget they ever heard the name Skind Kjoil. I will surpass you, brother, and the legend, the fairytale of the Galaxy's strongest warrior, will be forgotten. And I'll take my place in history as a savior."

Skar couldn't hold back his laughter. "Listen to yourself. Its all about revenge. You're hiding your real intent under a shroud of righteousness, just so you can bury a dead man once more."

Koll's look soured. "I suppose I was a fool to think you'd understand. Caring about something other than yourself was never a trait you possessed. None of the Jedi know what's really coming. Which means someone else has to step in. Evolution has never occurred without some kind of sacrifice."

Skar closed his eyes. "People shouldn't have to die for it."

"No," Koll's voice sounded beaten, "I...dearly wish I could avoid that too. But the signal, the symbol of change, must be hard and direct. It must capture the attention of the entire Galaxy."

Skar let out the air in his lungs. "You'll be making it easier for others to destroy everything. Like it or not, the Republic does manage to maintain some degree of peace. If you destroy it, others will scavenge the remains and the Galaxy will end up in chaos."

Koll smiled confidently. "No need to worry. I'll be there to clean it up."

Skar smirked. "Your little army's gonna take care of the entire Galaxy? Sounds impossible."

"It's merely the beginning. Brother, the Sons of Destiny will be around long after you and I are in our graves. The future is not a straight line. There are many corners and crossroads. There are many possible outcomes, and many changes that affect the outcomes. Building the future is not just about doing the right things, its about teaching others as well. We must create awareness so that others can join us. And if we affect enough people, finally we may have our Dream fulfilled. A future that we've made for ourselves."

Skar snarled. "All people will remember is the lives you took, pretending to do the right thing!" Skar felt fire flaming through his veins, burning with hatred for the man he'd once called father. "You may not know it yet, but there's an invitation to hell out there with your name on it!"

Koll snickered at his threat. "Sadly, you won't be the one handing it to me." Then he reached inside his cloak and pulled out a small pyramidal object.

Skar recognized it in an instant. It was the Holocron he'd left behind on Kryuu. The one Luke had asked him about, the one he'd thought about going back for so many times but decided not to. The instrument that had been his only teachings once, the thing that had told him the truth about Skind, Selia and the Jentarana. Seeing it did bring some other elements into light.

Koll tucked it away again. "It was never yours to begin with. It belonged to my son, he was supposed to have grown through the teachings inside, rather than learning from that miserable Dzog."

Skar felt more anger rising inside of him. "You're not half the Jedi he was."

Koll smiled. "No, I am far beyond his simple tricks. He was a disgrace to the Jedi." Koll sneered. "Textbook case on how to fail."

"He knew the truth?"

Koll nodded. "He did. But once you were in his control he abandoned my son. He believed you to be his tool for redemption. He knew my son was inferior to you. He knew you were the only one who could control the Jentarana and give him back his glory." Koll spat on the floor. "The man was a coward, a weakling. Although he corrupted and led my son into his fall, I find it of some small pleasure that my son killed that worthless creature. The man who lied to him, the one who destroyed his life, too concerned with his own to care for anyone else." Koll started to turn towards the door.

"I'm not done yet," Skar said.

Koll turned around, eyeing him skeptically. "What?"

Skar inhaled slowly. "Kayupa - why use his name?"

"Kayupa?" A silence followed that name, but soon Koll chuckled lightly at something only he could find funny. "I'm amazed that name does not strike some chord with you, my old Master. I would have thought, regardless of your newfound life, even that name would somehow resonate to you in the Force."

Skar didn't know what he meant. But in some ways, more than one, the name had always been with him. Sometimes it worked as a mantra, something he could pull strength from. The memory of his brother. But on the actual name's origin he didn't have the slightest clue. He remembered 2L telling him that it meant 'brother' in his native language. Master Bo-Hi had chosen it because he must've known that Kayupa and Skar would someday meet and grow as close as they had.

"You're wrong," Riokon said firmly, invading his mind. "Your late Master Bo-Hi was a poor excuse for a Jedi, and why the Council ever chose to let him ascend the rank of Master is beyond me. He was a fool, strong only in weaknesses."

Skar fought against his chains, biting back the anger Riokon had lit inside him. "Don't you talk that way about him!"

Riokon raised his hand slowly, but Skar felt it like a ton of pressure as he was pressed back against the detainment droid. "Don't mistake me for the young boy you once suckered, Master. There's a world of difference between us then and us now." Riokon lowered his hand. "Master Bo-Hi thought he was holding the clone of Skind Kjoil, he was charged with the responsibility of making it….go away."

Skar had heard this story before. "Master Bo-Hi couldn't…he couldn't kill the child." Skar spat mucus mixed with blood on the floor. "He thought it was wrong to blame the child for what Skind had done."

Riokon nodded. "And therein lies his weakness."

"Why? Because he had a heart? Unlike you?"

Riokon took one step closer. "Because he single-handedly destroyed the Old Republic."

Skar felt like a sheet of ice had wrapped itself around his guts. "What?"

Riokon closed his eyes, as if he was calling upon old knowledge. "Skind Kjoil was cloned using the very same Spaarti cylinders that are on lower level of this building. When a subject is cloned, it creates a disturbance in the Force. The late Grand Admiral Thrawn used ysalamiri to counter this side-effect. Any Jedi can feel this disturbance in the Force when he is close to a clone. Generally clones are mindless, obeying servants who care for nothing except fulfilling the wishes of their masters or creators. In your case it was slightly different; the Emperor himself transferred his own spirit into new clones from time to time, to stay young, to live forever."

Koll bowed his head slightly. "But in your case, not only did it exhibit a disturbance in the Force, but it was even stronger than usual, and it was stronger because it was Skind Kjoil's genes. The Jedi were already very weak at this point, the rising Dark Side clouding their vision. That was why Master Bo-Hi was asked to rid the Galaxy of the clone; because the Jedi Council knew the impact it's presence had on their power. Selfishly, and greedily, they wanted you dead."

Skar didn't want to hear anymore.

"Because Master Bo-Hi did not destroy you, the Jedi were powerless against the Emperor and Lord Vader. The Dark Side overtook them and they were left weak and scattered, easy pickings when the Purge came." Riokon opened his eyes, an age old sadness in the corner of his eyes. "You caused their downfall. You and your weak Master."

Skar stuttered. "That's - that's not true!"

"It is also the reason why the Jedi of today are not even close to being as powerful as the Jedi of old. Why even Master Skywalker has been unable to make any real progress in his attempts to build the next generation of Jedi. He cannot see it, but his biggest obstacle has been right in front of him this entire time. In you."

Skar didn't believe it. "But I - I was never on Shalasha with him! That was Kayupa! Bo-Hi never had the chance to destroy me."

Riokon smiled fully. "This part will really make your heart bleed, at first he was infact given you, the real clone. But he switched the babies with Lwen while they were still young. Lwen didn't know, but we knew. We watched over him while he thought we'd left him. We watched him dump you with Lwen on Nar Shaddaa where he thought the severe conditions of that planet would surely kill you when he could not. He stole our son from Lwen, switched the babies, and Lwen never knew. Lwen always believed he was raising my son."

Skar found it hard to accept, but somehow he knew it to be true. "And Master Bo-Hi took Kayupa..."

"Maybe the old fool was too sentimental for his own good. Rather than killing a child, he chose to raise a child." Their eyes met. "He left you to _die _on Nar Shaddaa."

Skar shook his head. "He came back for me!"

"He came back for the _Jentarana_. And while he was there he sought you out, looking for someone who could help him restore the Jedi Order. Someone powerful. Someone he could manipulate into his very own puppet."

Skar swallowed his own blood again. "Skind Kjoil's clone."

"The only one who could operate and understand the Jentarana, thus giving him a chance to pay back the betrayal he'd designed which left the Galaxy in such disarray." Riokon opened his hands. "It all makes sense, Master. It is the truth." The old warrior turned his side to him. "Sasa and I watched over you on Nar Shaddaa because we believed sooner or later the Emperor would find you there and it would lead us to him so we could destroy him."

"You used me as bait? But you just said how dangerous I was - "

"We chose to take that risk. You knew nothing of the Force at that time. We felt confident that if you grew too powerful we would have to destroy you, but you were far from such power when you slipped out of our grasp. When Master Bo-Hi took you away from Nar Shaddaa." Riokon turned his back to him. "Unfortunately you killed our son while you were out of our sight. When the Republic took you into its custody we were unable to retrieve you so that we might undo the flaw that was made long ago. The flaw we also neglected to give its full attention."

Skar looked at the floor, at the drops of blood and spit that laid at his feet. He didn't want to believe it, but somewhere inside him he felt illuminated. He was finally able to gather the pieces of his identity and all the inertia he'd always felt into a solution; a reason. And that reason was killing him, because it went against everything he'd ever taken for granted. Everyone was liars, everyone had held back from him, everyone had betrayed him. And as much as he wanted to blame them all for their lies, he felt he just couldn't. He was the biggest lie of them all.

All he was, was a lie.

Right from the start.

Riokon looked at him over his shoulder. "I've been completely honest with you, my old Master. Infact; I may be the only one who ever has." The General clasped his hands together. "So now you understand why I must kill you. Why I must finally unmake this terrible mistake, once and for all. I am only thankful to the Force that I will have the chance to do it in person, rather than you being simply another casualty in the oncoming assualt on Coruscant."

Skar tried his best to block it. Tried to find something else to focus on. "You didn't explain why you used his name? Why call yourself Kayupa? Why masquerade as your own son?"

Riokon looked at him. "I guess it must seem strange to you that I used the name Kayupa, but as I said before I am not the one who lured you out here. I often use that name as a cover...in some part as homage to you, to my former Master."

"Homage?" Skar was brought out of it by a mechanical sound as one of the detainment droid's arms unlocked, the others still holding him firmly locked. The free arm extended a small siring and Skar saw liquid inside it. The arm reached around behind him and he felt the prick of the needle as it touched his back.

It slid inside his skin and scrapped against bone before settling. Skar bit back the pain, he tried to move away from it but couldn't.

Riokon walked towards the door, touching the controls. The door opened and Riokon stood as a dark shadow against the light pouring in from the outside. "In some part Master Bo-Hi must've also named my son _Kayupa _to honor you, my old Master." Riokon looked over his shoulder one last time. "That was the name you used to call me."

"I don't - " Skar stopped talking, and with dazzling clarity he finally understood. Riokon had never claimed to be Kayupa, he'd always been honest. He'd always been him. It was not the name, it was the meaning behind it.

"Consider this my last honor to our old friendship instead, _brother_," Riokon said low but gently as he walked through the doorway. "Your days are numbered."

The needle injected.

* * *

Koll stopped just outside the door, listening for the clone's screaming. And when it reached his ears from beyond the thick walls and door, a frenzied desperate cry, his heart felt like it cradled inside a lover's care. The voice and the terror in that cry as the clone pleaded for help, Koll was sure nothing had ever sounded so good before in his ears. But it was a short pleasure, soon enough the clone passed out from the drugs and silence didn't hold the splendor of his everlasting hate begging for help.

He smiled to himself shortly, looking down at the floor. He felt foolish but he couldn't help remembering hearing his Master cry out before. At one point of his life he would have run to the man's aid, even laid down his life to protect him. He felt so far removed from those times, though he was sure it was a part of him. He couldn't see the distance traveled in between, the three decades that had passed since then seemed so fragile and so worthless. He was sure there was great wealth in the memories of those decades, but right now it seemed so far away.

He was back there, thirty years ago, ready to face his Master in combat. Ready to kill the man for his betrayal. Koll had spent many years in the embrace of the Dark Side, listening to its desires and its cravings, slaying and killing in its name. He'd known pain through the Dark Side, pain was its very essence. He'd explored hatred and anger to its limits. Fueled the emotions so far that it felt like he was going mad. He'd lost himself at one time, becoming nothing more than a living breathing embodiment of everything the Dark Side stood for. He'd seen true evil, he'd _been _it. He'd achieved it, he'd encouraged it in others. And yet today it held no grasp over his soul anymore. He'd moved beyond its control.

The hallways outside the dungeon he'd set aside for the clone were empty, blank smooth walls barely illuminated. Derrick had managed to have power up and running again by rerouting the main power supply to the fusion generator down in the bowels of the station, from the cloning facility. Derrick moved on emotions to his family back on Coruscant, moved on the desire to see them again.

Koll had been honest enough to tell the man that he couldn't promise such a thing, that he knew nothing of their fate. Derrick had been saddened to hear that but the man still believed that the Sons of Destiny were his best chance at seeing them again. Koll honored that decision, and had no intentions of betraying the man. He understood family better than anyone, after all the last thirty years he'd been spent building a family. A very lethal and motivated family.

He looked down both ends of the hallway, finding it strange to be alone. Usually either Sasa, Jovis, Junn or one of his aides were by his side. As it struck him he realized he hadn't had a moment alone to reflect in several years. It felt odd, but quite welcome. He knew Jovis was on his way back from Myrkr, but Junn and Sasa were a different story. Junn was in a medical wing, receiving a new prostethic for her right hand. He knew she carried her own feelings of failure and he would allow her to have those. Junn was good, but she was headstrong. This incident would break her slightly, but it had to come sooner or later. She was better knowing she was not invincible.

But Sasa...

She'd left so abruptly, perhaps confused about her emotions in this affair whereas Koll's feelings were set in stone. He hated the clone with every fiber of his being and the abomination would recieve its just execution soon enough. But Sasa had always been an emotional sort, and he supposed he should have expected her reaction. When she'd traveled to Kryuu all those years ago to face her brother, it wasn't out of hatred. It had been an attempt to save him. It was an unnerving fact, but he trusted her enough to know she would do her duty to the fullest.

He let out a deep breath and concentrated. In a matter of hours the last shipment of supplies would arrive, carrying also the last of the Inner Council, the leading body of the Sons of Destiny. Koll was General, and Sasa his wife, but aside from Junn, his lieutenant, there were others. Men he trusted beyond question. He longed to see them, to hear their voices again, to feel the unity in his heart when reunited with his most loyal friends.

Despite setbacks and this last surprise the mission's phases were well underway; the dismantling of the _Watchmen _was complete, rerouting the power was complete, perimeter defences were in place, and Phase 4, testing the stability of the cloning facility was also in progress. And once the rest of the army arrived, they would be ready for Phase 5, the final stage of their plan on Regana.

He nodded to himself and started walking down the hallway, seeking out wherever Sasa had dissapeared to. As he boarded the lift at the end of the hallway, some of the clone's words sent a stirring through his heart. Something he had been unable to forsee, but a matter he was sure he could deal with.

_Then...someone else sent the datacard...to lure me out here._

The lift's doors sealed shut. Once secure inside the lift he reached out to the clone again, wanting to make sure it was sedated. The clone had been hit with an overdose of several drugs, the effects of which would put it in a thick stupor from where it would not awake for many days. But even in its dreams, he could feel the clone's mind fighting against the obvious truth deep within.

The clone still fought internally, he was still looking for some shred of evidence to give him final proof. Koll knew no matter how hard the clone worked it wouldn't be long before the man met his end. He could have killed him by now, but he wanted it to accept the truth.

He didn't want to fight the clone when it was weak, he wanted to fight his Master. He wanted him to accept it -

"Your lack of understanding thespirit will be your undoing."

Koll turned inside the tiny lift and whipped out his blaster. But the man speaking to him was the last person Koll would have expected to see. Koll's grip on the blaster, once considered one of the firmest in the Galaxy, shook.

"Master?"

Skind Kjoil's ghastly face stared back at him, his smile in place and his eyes still as strong as they'd ever been. Cloaked in a black robe and shining with his own immortal glow, the Kjoil Master held out his hands, standing no more than four feet away. "Humans can transfer enormous quantities of strength into their beliefs. His persistence is not of confusion or a search for truth. Its his hatred blamed at you. A hatred because you've unraveled his entire life, just as your son's life was unraveled, which led to his demise."

Koll had taught his soldiers never to lay down their weapons when faced with a foe, but even he knew he could not harm a ghost with his blaster. He steadied his aim on Skind's face. Mostly because it felt good, and more because it was a dream he often had, one with many pleasures of filling his Master's skull with red hot beams of light. "His suffering won't be long."

Skind Kjoil's face turned sour for an instant. "You can try all you want, but it will be pointless. Skar is the kind of man we heard about when we were young. Strong, dedicated, trust-worthy. He's the man we dreamed of being, Koll. To kill him would be to kill an idol for us both. None of us can defeat him," Skind sighed. "and when time runs out for this Galaxy we can both reflect if we were right to even try so."

Koll moved his blaster down, the rage contained in him surpassed his guard. "You talk of nothing. You talk of someone, _something_, that nature or the Force did not create! Someone without the blessing of life. Someone sick and twisted made him back in the past to test my dedication, my temperament today."

Skind looked at him. "Is that what you really think?"

Koll nodded. "You saw what happened during the Old Republic. You saw how innocent men died in vain. You know what happened during the Clone Wars. There was no loyalty to the men who fought for the Old Republic. There was no reward, no medals, no gratitude. I was testing to see what kind of government we were fighting to protect." Koll cursed. "And I found out, and to say I was surprised would be a lie. To say I was horrified…would be an understatement."

Skind nodded, he seemed to understand, yet his gaze hadn't changed for one time while Koll had emptied his heart. "It's hard to feel pity for those who died, when I was responsible for the deaths of so many of them. It was my strategic ability that the Emperor wanted for the general of his armies. In return he offered me a way for me to be back with Selia. I took it, well knowing he would generate a clone of me. He didn't shy away from telling me that much. Palpatine knew it and I knew it. He said he didn't want my abilities to go to waste. I paid it no mind at the time," Skind's eyes turned to slits, his jaw tighteneing, "yet to this day I wish I had slain that old man where he stood. For thirty years I've wandered as a ghost through the lives of so many. Seeing things, intimate and personal, in the lives of strangers."

Koll focused on the spirit, the transparent shimmering shape of a man he'd once loved. "You met my son."

Skind nodded. "When Kayupa stepped into my tomb," Skind shook his head slowly, "you can't imagine the happiness that coincided in me. He was a way out. The very person whose existence denied mine, or so I thought, walked right into my lap. I had no way of killing him, since my powers are only so deep in this form." Skind looked over at Koll, a silent sympathy locked in those dead blue eyes. "I wanted to kill him. Like I've never wanted to take a life before. I told him where to go to unlock the pain inside him, and I prayed he would fail."

Koll stepped forward, his teeth bared in anger. "That was my _son_! Who you manipulated and sent off into his doom. You and a bunch of others lied to my boy, told him unbelievable terrors that made him crazy."

Skind again seemed unaffected by the tragedy of his deceit. "But where were you? How could you abandon your own son like that, Koll? How could you leave him in the hands of a predator? Where were you, his father, to protect him? To raise him?" Skind laughed. "I am no more responsible for his fate than you were."

Koll was still full of rage but he had no one to lash out at. "We chased every source of information we had on Bo-Hi!"

Skind Kjoil smiled slyly. "But you never thought to check out Kryuu. The source of all of this. The place where it all began."

Koll steadied himself, his anger had made him tremble with anxiety and he felt faint. "No. Neither Sasa nor myself wanted to go back there. It was only when my son died that I felt him. I heard his scream across the Galaxy. I went as fast as I could." Koll closed his eyes, trying to avoid crying at the memory. "But all I found were the remains of the Jentarana. I wasn't expecting that. Bo-Hi was supposed to have destroyed that thing years ago."

Skind hugged himself, his face illuminated with a tinge of pride. "The Jentarana is like me. In more ways than one. Just when you think you've got it beat, it just jumps right back at you."

Koll disregarded his words, he just stared hatefully into nothing. "All I had was a name…my son cried out his own name at the time of his death." Koll looked away and his lips quivered. "Skar." Koll shook with intense pain. "A name I loved, became the name of my sworn vengeance."

Skind frowned. "This isn't about him. All this, your work, your army, your soldiers. Its about the Republic. Who do you think you're kidding?"

Koll straightened up. "This is a lifelong hate, much older than the one I hold towards you, or your clone. The Republic has always been a cursed project. Even the might of the Jedi couldn't uphold the needed balance. The Republic allowed me, and our brothers, to die without giving it a second thought."

"That was the _Old _Republic. Things are different now, new leaders."

Koll shook his head. "It has nothing to do with the leadership. The disease is deep within the veins of Coruscant, corrupting everything it comes across." Koll looked up at his former Master. "My son shared my sentiments. He planned to dive the Jentarana right into the heart of Coruscant. The explosion of the generator would have been enough to take out a great deal of the planet's surface, and if that wasn't enough, the radioactive seepage would render one fourth of Coruscant uninhabitable for centuries. It would have been a momentous occasion, one I would not have been sad to let my son undertake." Koll nodded proudly. "Even his sacrifice would have been worth it."

Skind Kjoil looked at him in a disgust. "You'll revenge the thousands of your brothers who died, by killing innocent billions?" Then he looked away. A slight smile crossed his lips. "I've taught you everything I know. From strategy, combat, the Force, life and love. But I forgot to teach you common sense." Skind sighed. "Its true that the past is our only link to the future. But our memories shouldn't be corroded the way you want them. There are other ways of teaching future generations about the dangers of war. You have a responsibility to the future to keep track of the mistakes we've made. But you're not giving them advice, you're not giving them helpful tips. You're passing on more war and death."

Koll didn't move, didn't budge an inch. "Its all I have to give. And I will be remembered as the messiah who gave them the clean slate this Galaxy needed to make a better government. I'm passing on hope, and one big wake-up call."

Skind nodded. "And what about your soldiers, your children? Think of the world you're leaving them to fix. Think of the heritage you're bestowing upon them - "

Koll lifted his blaster and trained it at Skind's forehead. "My son is already dead by the hands of your mistake! He's already paid the price like so many of my friends and family did! My son is dead because of you!" Koll ground his teeth with anger. "So don't tell me about passing on the right stuff. All you've ever passed on was death!"

Skind smirked. "You can't blame me for that. I'm not in control of his actions, he's simply following his own will. If a baby dies at birth, do you blame the mother? Come on, Koll, you used to be smarter than this." Skind leaned against the wall. "What I find most humorous is the fact you're pledging this war against the New Republic under the name of vengeance for your son."

Koll kept his blaster aimed at Skind. "What's so humorous about that?"

Skind smiled. "You're building this army to take your revenge for your so-called lost and betrayed son. But you've never even met your son. You've never even gazed into his eyes and seen the light behind them. I've met your son, I heard his good will and intentions. Remembering that time now, I can recall every word he said, because they sounded like you. He was a good man, a good Jedi. But his ego was crushed under a tremendous lie you pushed him right into...where did you ever find enough proof to allow calling yourself a father?"

Koll tightened his grip on the blaster and pulled the trigger. He gave it no thought. The red beam coursed through Skind Kjoil's face and emerged on the other side, exploding against the lift's wall. Skind's face dissolved like a cloud, but slowly it rebuilt itself and the smile was still perched on Skind's lips.

Koll cursed in anger.

Skind remained untouched. He just laughed heartily. "Many times on many occasions people have tried to kill me. You're the only one that's gotten this close and failed." Skind laughed even louder. "I've always been stronger than you, Koll. It must be a great anguish that you'll never have the chance to prove otherwise."

Koll bit back the pain, his blaster still in hand, smoke coming from the barrel. "Damn you, Skind. You deserve a lifetime - no, a _million _lifetimes as the ghost you are. Maybe I should lengthen your agony." Koll whispered the words with great resentment. "Keep you from Selia forever."

Skind laughed again, adding to Koll's torment. "You have that power. Just let the clone live."

Koll looked up into his Master's face. He despised his Master enough to wish him a life of pain, but his hatred against Skind went so far he would rather prove himself against him in real life rather than to prolong the misery of a ghost. He would kill Skind's clone and prove himself stronger than his old Master. Skar would die, even if that was what Skind was coaxing him into doing.

"When you meet Selia…remember I was the one that gave you to her. Remember that every second you spend with her is given by me." Koll's face turned gray with perverse pleasure. "I _will _kill you, Master, and eternity with Selia will be spoiled because when you see her, you will know that I was greater than you. When you touch her, you will hear my victory cry in your ears. And when you kiss her, you will taste my joy."

Koll got so ecstatic that he lunged out at the ghost but his hand went through Skind's face and Koll thrashed down on the lift's floor. The pain from the impact pounded through his shoulder but he paid it no mind. He couldn't stop laughing.

"I _will _kill you, Master!"

Amidst the insane laughing Skind Kjoil's ghost form began to dissolve into a cloud of nothing next to Koll. But the hysterical Koll managed to see his Master one last time, shaking his head in amazement at Koll's hatred, before the ghost disintegrated. Skind's voice whispered for the last time over the slowing of the lift as it reached its destinated level.

_I lend my trust to you in this and wish you good fortune, for my own sake. But I already know your words are meaningless.

* * *

_

Beyond consciousness and beyond dreams, Skar found himself inside the libberatium, the space Master Bo-Hi had revealed to him, where spirits in the Force could convene. Just as before it existed as a black emptiness, illuminated only a small shred of light that fell upon him from an undiscernable source. But even there Skar had to fight an internal struggle. His mind was pounding him down emotionally and spiritually until he almost couldn't take it anymore, fearing he might go completely insane, his chaotic thoughts that tried desperately to cling to something, anything. Everything was such a mess and he found he still longed for the moment to fade and he would wake up, maybe on Coruscant or maybe back on the _Civilian_. He didn't care where. Just anywhere but there.

_You are the clone of Skind Kjoil._

The words resonated through his soul. And Skar looked up to see Kayupa, the spirit of his old friend and nemesis, keeping him company inside the libberatium. It perplexed Skar that he himself was able to enter this space in the Force, when Sonnet was assumingly still out there, blocking him from the Force. Kayupa carried himself with the same dignity and confidence he'd always had, but there were hints of amusement in his expression, a kind of pleasure.

Seeing Kayupa made him remember Koll, the man who'd ruined his life. The man that for a few moments had been his father, only to transform into an apprentice Skar had trained in another life. The pain thumped through him momentarily. Trying to fight it back, but knowing he couldn't, the truth began to shape itself into his mind, rebuilding the fragile pieces of his identity that he had fought so hard to build. Like a parasite it erased his name and his past, leaving only blank spots that needed to be filled.

The truth settled with a heartbreaking sigh. All his life he'd lived the fairytale of being Skar Kjoil, the nephew of the greatest Jedi ever to live, he'd set right so many wrongs and had given so much hope to those without. But it was never his, it never had been. It had been the glory of someone else.

He was him, he was _he_.

Skind Kjoil.

With the realization slowly settling, Skar found another pain from the past scurrying its way across his brain until it fixated in his memory. Kayupa had been him. The knowledge crystallized his heart. Skar grabbed onto the pain, because it was all he had left, a dread filling the place in his soul where the Force had once resided.

Kayupa began to walk over to Skar, until they were standing face to dead face. He looked at Skar, pity radiating from his eyes. Skar tried to keep his strength up, but this was too abstract for him to keep up any longer.

Kayupa leaned into Skar, Skar could feel his dark and evil presence so much he thought it was his own. Skar looked back at the spirit of Kayupa, and stared down into his undead eyes. And when he spoke his voice echoed through the darkness.

"If you weren't already dead...I'd kill you a million times over."

Kayupa chuckled loudly, his cackle echoing into infinity. "I deserve that. Depressing, isn't it, brother?"

Skar shook his head. "This…can't be happening. You should have told me."

Kayupa hugged himself, staring at the darkness around them, a puzzled yet amused look in his eyes. "I could have..."

Skar kept his glare on Kayupa. "Why didn't you?"

Kayupa smiled smugly. "I spend all day with ghosts, Skar. I need a good laugh once in a while."

Despite the anger flowing through him, Skar couldn't help smile slightly at that remark. "Same old Kayupa, ey? Same old bastard."

Kayupa held out his hands. "What can I say? Master Bo-Hi pulled one on both of us, didn't he? I knew there was something he wasn't telling. Knew he had something up his sleeve."

Skar turned his face away. "Are you my friend?"

Kayupa shrugged indifferently. "It takes two to make that decision, but I'll leave it entirely up to you. Seems to me all of your friendships come with some measure of hate or pain."

Skar snorted. "Why can't I ever meet normal people?" Skar thought of Kast, and the other commandos. "What happened to the commandos that were with me?"

"They're being held somewhere in the station, still alive. Koll has some kind of plan for them, but I don't know what it is."

Skar nodded. "What's his real plan? How does he intend to destroy Coruscant?"

Kayupa shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think many do. He's waiting for something, or someone, to come to him."

"What's with the scrapyard of ship outside?"

"I don't know."

"He managed to reroute the power too."

"He did," Kayupa said, "the orbital defences are up and running again. He'll be ready for the Republic retaliation that is sure to come."

"Maybe that's what he's waiting for," Skar said.

"What do you mean?"

"He's destroyed all his own ships...there's no way to move the army out of here. I think he intends to destroy Coruscant from here. But I can't figure out how."

"Maybe something to do with the cloning facility in the lower levels," Kayupa's eyes hardened, "the very same that spawned you."

Skar hugged himself. "I still can't...I _won't _believe any of it."

Kayupa smirked. "It doesn't matter. You wanted to know how I could maintain my presence in the Force, when all I was, was a mirror of another man. Well, turns out I wasn't. I have my own soul, my own identity. I wondered about it at first too, but the Force gave me no answers." Kayupa closed his eyes. "I _am _Skar Kjoil."

Skar shook his head. "No. You have a presence because you are Skind Kjoil. Like the real Skind Kjoil you're trapped in the same afterlife."

"No, brother." Kayupa sighed. "Skind Kjoil is alive because _you _are alive. It was _you _that activated the Jentarana on Soliton, your bloodstream, not mine."

Skar's hands balled into fists. "You can't prove that because its a lie."

Kayupa shook his head slowly, his lifeless eyes peering beyond the reality around them. "Skar, you're going to have to embrace it, just like I did. Then you'll see the hopelessness of fighting the truth. You, and Skind Kjoil, have only death left in this life. There is no redemption. You've spent your entire life trying to make good for all the damage he did, but its time to realize that the only way you can do that is by ending it all. The world never needed a Skind Kjoil in the first place. Give the man his dignity, end this charade now."

Skar stared at Kayupa, trying not to think of him as what he was but what he had been. "Why are you telling me this?"

Kayupa looked directly into his eyes. "Because I know you're looking for a way out. And you're not too choosy about it either."

"What?"

Kayupa rubbed his hands against each other. "You're thinking about killing yourself, aren't you?"

The words took Skar far beyond himself. The idea of dying had not crossed his mind until then. Since Riokon had talked to him, he'd tried to make the facts and lies fit together in a non-harmful pattern. But in some ways, he supposed, to die would make it all so much easier. Everything would go away. Everything would be nullified, his pain would vaporize and he would be free of it all. Free of this twisted reality.

Free to see Shinran again -

Skar shook his head at that thought. _No, don't say it. Don't even think it!_

"Don't hide it. You are," Kayupa said, "as I was. It hurts, doesn't it? The thought of how much we've accomplished. Of how much we've suddenly lost, on the inside. It's enough to drive any man crazy."

Why was he saying these things? What good could he benefit from his death? Why was he feeding him these thoughts? "I'm not crazy!" Skar shouted as much as he could, his voice resonating eternally. "Everyone else just is!"

Kayupa chuckled. "Exactly."

Skar felt the hopelessness of it all conquer him, leaving him drained. He felt like a vampire had bit down into his very soul and sucked out every last ounce of strength and understanding. "Why…why is this happening to me?"

Kayupa shrugged, a blank look on his face as if he was really discussing something much less important than this. "Because its the truth," he said calmly. "Don't fool yourself into thinking that fate, the Force, or even some kind of god suddenly had it in for you and warped reality. That's not what happened, not even close. This…is reality coming too late. It happened for me too, and I blamed everyone." His eyes closed. "You _have _to blame everyone, because you know you didn't do it. But there's nobody who really deserves the blame."

"You killed Master Bo-Hi," Skar pointed out.

Kayupa nodded. "I took it out on Master Bo-Hi, yes, but more than him I took it out on life. I blamed life…as ridiculous as it sounds, I blamed _life_. The very thing that I had never asked for. If life was going to screw around with me, I wasn't going to be around for the show. I'd had many joys, many pleasures and I'd been a happy man, but I blamed the one thing that never asked anything in return or lied to me." Kayupa looked away. "It was then I had to ask myself; would I rather have never lived?"

Skar didn't want to hear the regrets of a dead man, much less Kayupa's. All he wanted was to leave, but to go where? To do what? In his mind it was as if the pain only belonged to this place, and he thought that if he left it would go away. Like a bad dream.

"It won't," Kayupa said to answer his thoughts. "It won't ever go away."

Skar didn't want to hear those words. He feared those words, they battered what defenses he had left. Skar felt his body tighten and his jaw worked as he felt those tears waiting to be released crawl up the inside of his face. "This…I won't accept it! It can't be real! This is a dream," Skar said, not really believing it himself, but hoped so desperately it was true. "You're not real, you're dead. Shinran killed you!"

Kayupa hugged himself, his face blank as ever. "Is that the way you saw it?"

"What?"

Kayupa didn't answer right away, he contemplated his words carefully. "You chose to think of it as her killing me, but what if I was just an excuse?"

"An excuse for what?"

"To be free," Kayupa said bluntly. "Shinran isn't - wasn't the first to long for a release. Long for the freedom that people somehow think they can only achieve through death. What makes you think she wasn't running away from something?"

Skar didn't understand. "Like what?"

"Like you."

Skar snarled and wanted more than anything to tear out whatever was keeping Kayupa alive. Whatever lifeless heart that kept beating in that dead chest. To kill him, again and again and again. "You bastard!" he shouted. "What gives you the right! How dare you!"

Kayupa shrugged, a cold look in his eyes. "I thought that as long as we're studying alternative realities, we might as well do it thoroughly." Kayupa leaned back against the wall. "You're dead. Skar Kjoil is dead. I'm dead. Who are you really?"

Skar felt overwhelmed with anger. "I'm…me!"

"And who is that?"

"Someone who won't be fooled by these lies!" Skar roared, his voice louder than ever. "You and Koll. You're both sick. Twisted and evil. What would you know about reality? What makes you think that even for a second I would believe you!" Skar screamed, fed up with this discussion. Sick of having Kayupa bringing him down, brining him further and further into his own despair. Was he still trying to break him? Had Riokon asked him to do this? Why?

Why not just kill him?

Kayupa bowed his head slightly. "Your identity may have changed but your ideals shouldn't have. You're still the same person, all that's changed is the way you think about yourself." Kayupa smirked. "The name you write on the bottom of the paper, that's all. Don't tell me your life has changed that much."

Skar squinted. "You believed it did. You went crazy."

Kayupa hugged himself. "Well, spending thirteen years hovering in the Force doing nothing but retrospect changes a man," Kayupa joked.

Skar sighed. "It's not that easy for me, Kayupa. For a moment I thought Koll was you, then I thought he was my father. Now he's - " Skar looked hard for the words, "an apprentice in an alternate life. Someone I taught, and someone I abandoned which made him hate me. I _can't _relate to that. And I wanted, more than anything, to believe he was my father. That they were my family. For two minutes I had a family."

Kayupa nodded. "And in an alternate life I was your uncle, your friend and your worst enemy. Nothing's changed." Kayupa looked ahead, seeing things in the Force that Skar couldn't. "You're forgetting things I taught you long ago. Things of the heart. I've been by your side the entire time since you undertook this mission, watched you drown your emotions thinking it was the right thing to do. You're listening to your heart, as I so many times taught you, but you're not understanding what its saying to you."

"What?"

"Think back, you chose to take this mission but why? Because you thought I was involved. You thought this was a job for a Kjoil, for you, something only you could do. You thought the feeling you felt in the Force was something about you personally, but the real thing it was telling you was that you were needed here. You treat each impression from the Force like it has something to do with your own problems, when infact its closer to saying 'move on'. It was telling you to get over yourself because the future of hoping no dangers will come is not true. You are a Jedi Knight and a Kjoil Knight, Skar, but when you think about it you've never received any Kjoil training."

Skar's head came up. "What?"

Kayupa explained further. "The training you were taught back on Kryuu was Jedi training, not Kjoil. So your touch with the Force tells you what to do as a Jedi, you thought it was the Kjoil side telling you that you actually had free choice. You didn't listen closely enough because you haven't learned to distinguish the two. It was the Force, the Jedi Force, that told you to come here, for truth. You were needed here, and the Force brought you here."

Skar didn't want to understand. "You're saying...that because I thought it was my Kjoil side that told me to come here, I didn't see that the Force, as a Jedi, needed me here?"

Kayupa smiled. "Correct, brother, you thought you would gain some insight here, but what the Force was really doing was pushing you away from that and placed you in a hostile territory for you to gain reasonable insight. The insight your Jedi side needed. And you've been teaching Jedi training, even Rishi, your little apprentice, you've stuffed him with what you knew, which is all Jedi training. You have no Kjoil training."

Despite how empty those words made him feel he could see some light in it. And he couldn't help think that maybe that was what Kayupa had been trying to tell him all along.

"So you're saying - "

"I'm saying there's a lot about the Force that you have yet to learn. You still haven't learned the full potential of your heritage, things that could get you out of that dungeon," Kayupa said with a wink. "My father is lost beyond hope. I can understand his motives, but I don't think he's right." Kayupa pleaded. "And you are the only one who can stop him, and keep the promise you gave to Skind Kjoil."

"But I'm not him!" Skar yelled.

"Would it make it easier for you to think of yourself as Skar Kjoil? Would you still fight Koll and kill him? Would you kill the person you think of as your father? Or your mother?"

Skar opened his mouth to talk, but there were no words. No comforting outlook at all. And without the Force, how was he to know?

Kayupa turned his back to him. "Denying it makes it easier. Easier to hide from the truth, than to acknowledge the pain."

Skar shivered from a cold that didn't exist inside the room. "I have proof. When the Jentarana was destroyed I felt him join with the Force, and when you died I felt the Force become stronger."

Kayupa was unaffected. "Then why is Skind's spirit still so active? Believe me, he has not settled into the netherworld. He is watching us," Kayupa's eyes searched the room around him slowly, "even now. Plotting. The surge you felt in the Force upon my death was the Dark Side being released from my body."

Skar shook his head. "I won't accept it, its not true. I won't give up everything I am, everything I've done. I can't."

Kayupa sympathized. "I know, _believe _me. I know. Whether or not you choose the embrace the fact, your time is running out. No matter who you think you are, Koll will come for you. And since you won't be able to kill those you believe are your family, you must at least give others a proper chance. Achieve the peace you've always wanted, the peace you've deserved. You and I both know that you can't kill your own father. You've longed for a family since the day I met you."

Skar turned his face away. "Leave me, Kayupa. You can't help me anymore."

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this is how it is. This is your destiny."

Skar sighed. "My destiny? This is my torment." Skar didn't want to look him in the eyes. "How can I trust you?"

Kayupa stepped in front of his vision, holding out his hand and placing it on his chest. "Because I'm your friend. The only friend you've ever had."

Skar wanted to believe those words, but he'd done so before and it had ended in catastrophe. "What…what was that injection Koll gave me?"

Kayupa removed his hand. "Among other things it was extracting a blood specimen from you, Koll wants a sample of your blood to make sure you're really who he thinks you are. It was also a truth serum, avabush. Its designed to calm you down, making you docile. Making it easier for you to accept the truth."

"But why?" Skar asked weakly. "If Koll hates me so much why hasn't he killed me yet?"

Kayupa smiled slightly. "He hasn't killed you _because _he hates you so much. He wants you in a fair fight. He wants to prove his superiority over Skind Kjoil, so he can unmake him." Kayupa hesitated for a moment. "That's…what a lot of things revolve around in his plans. Let him have his victory, and you could have yours too." Kayupa looked at him, pity radiating from those once trustworthy eyes. "You mustn't hang on, Skar. For the good of this Galaxy...you have to let go."

* * *

When Regana's sun rose over the ridges and mountains in the horizon it cast a shine so brilliant over the plains of snow surrounding the installation, that the soldiers on outside patrol had to cover their eyes with their hands while their eyes adjusted to the new brightness. Some even optioned to activate the eye-shields in their helmets, dampening the effect slightly, while others enjoyed the moment of natural beauty the sun bestowed upon the cold world.

To a soldier, seeing the sun rise was more than just a way of knowing what time of day it was. It was a thankful reminder that they'd survived another day. Each of the Sons of Destiny troopers said an unvoiced prayer that they would be fortunate enough, skilled enough, to survive another day and witness this spectacle again.

However, for some on Regana seeing the sunrise was a source of anger. With Jovis on a special mission for the General of the terrorists, the crew he'd left behind on Regana grew more and more frustrated with their situation. Tired and sick of doing the same patrols every day, drunk and conspiring, the thirty of them hatched a plan to turn the tables around for their benefit. Banding together half of Jovis's men they turned against the army and demanded payment in return for the lives of the hostages they were assigned to guard.

Koll Riokon watched the situation unfold from the window in his office, the chamber he'd made into a dining room, his clear and vengeful eyes devising a plan for how to retake the structure with minimal damage to hostages and his own men. In some ways the incident reminded him of what he was about to do to Coruscant, their mission. He had no desire to kill any of the millions that would die, but he knew how important it was that at least some died.

Massacre and tragedy; those were the true foundations of change, the death of someone dear was always a slap in the face and it demanded new thinking. Mankind was not powerful through the rule of the Republic, they were slaves to it. But he would set them free. He would correct the wrong he abandoned so long ago.

_Coruscant, home of heroes_, Koll thought to himself, _the symbol of humanity to the Galaxy_. Koll snorted. _What do they know about humanity? Insanity in individuals is something rare but in groups and government it is the rule._

Through him the Galaxy would grow. Every trial endured in the right spirit made a soul stronger than it was before. The fundamental ills of Coruscant, the source of its troubles, was stupidity, ignorance, greed and love of power. At all times, day by day, the soul had to fight for freedom and freedom from want, and not just in war but also in peace. He would give them peace, just as soon as the war was over.

Regret hiring the mercenaries he did not, he'd enjoyed sharing experiences and thoughts with Jovis, and the mercenaries had helped Junn push back the clone and his military accomplices when they'd crashed in their ship.

All in all they'd been great assets, cheap even, which was why he was not surprised when the rest of Jovis's men decided to revolt against him. In the absence of their leader they began to speculate on their own, and simple creatures as mercenaries were their first thoughts inevitably revolved around money. Koll knew the mind of a mercenary, he had anticipated this. He had no intention of paying them for the hostages.

They had no hostages.

Koll touched his right temple once with his hand. Outside the window on the connecting bridge between there and the building under siege, the platoon leader acknowledged his command with a crisp nod. The man turned about and relayed the command to the five special unit troopers. Koll felt a surge of pride as the six of them sprung into action, the wild winds picking at them.

The door to his office slid open and Sasa walked, dragging her cloak across the floor. She wore concern as she walked up to stand beside him. Koll reached out his hand to hold hers but she folded her arms over her stomach instead. He didn't want to take it personal, he knew she got like this during situations that could either end very fortunate or very disastrous. Koll remained unalarmed, he'd planned this incident for as long as he'd been on the planet.

Sasa made a heartfelt sigh. "I hate it when things go wrong."

Koll nodded. "There is good in every situation, you just have to look for it."

Sasa was not reassured. "Wish my eyes were as good as yours."

Koll glanced at her. "How is Junn recupperating?"

Sasa shook her head. "She blames herself, and she fears why you haven't been to see her yet, afraid you're too ashamed of her. But despite her injury, it may prove to be the best thing that ever happened to her."

"I know."

"I'm not talking about humility, Koll," she said bluntly, "I'm talking about her fear."

Though she was standing right next to him, Koll couldn't help feel there was a wall between them. "Fear?"

"Yes. She is indeed humbled, broken even. She's scared of going back out there, knowing now she will never be as strong as she was before. She doubts herself, and in that mode of thinking she's beginning to think of alternate paths."

Koll's chest sunk. "Leaving?"

"With her injury, she will be as invincible as the army used to think her to be. They know now she is defeatable. She believes someone else should take her place as lieutenant."

Koll had never thought he'd hear those words coming from Junn. "Has she lost faith?"

"Not in the mission, but in herself. She only wants what is best for us, for the army," Sasa's words were direct and to the point, "and I also believe it is best. Junn carried us this far, its time for someone else, someone new to lead the army. Junn took the army through its infancy, she brought them up, raised them, loved them. Now she has to turn over her position to someone who can lead them through the greatest battle yet."

Koll bit his lip. "Maybe."

"There is no maybe, Koll. She is decided. She has no regrets, but she feels now that she's sacrificed enough."

Koll read between the lines. "And what about Krych?"

Sasa's insides warmed at the thought of Krych, her apprentice and Junn's lover. "There'll be a problem, without a doubt. But she feels she's done enough." Sasa sighed. "And I agree with her."

Koll ignored that comment and watched the surgical precision with which his men planted explosive devices on the connecting bridge. The bridge outside the window was the only one leading in and out of the hostage hangar now. The others had already been dismantled during the first stage of their take-over, cutting down on options for an enemy to use as an entry point. This last one he'd left because he felt safer being able to personally oversee its safety from his office. In minutes the platoon leader would blow away this last entry point, making it impossible for anyone to enter.

Or leave.

Sasa seemed to notice it too. "I don't understand."

Koll smiled, his eyes still on the situation on the bridge. "To acquire knowledge, one must study; but to acquire wisdom, one must observe."

"What are - "

"I'm playing the role of a very upset landlord," Koll said with a sly grin. "I'm locking them in."

"And what about the hostages?"

Koll hugged himself and turned to her. "During last night's patrol shift our soldiers transferred the hostages to another structure, a safer location. The building is empty," he smiled, "except for a few drunkards who decided to betray us."

"So now we're short one structure?"

Koll shrugged. "This facility is more than big enough to suit our needs. One structure less won't affect our plans." He glanced at her. "Trust me. I've thought of everything."

"Surely they can get out."

"All previous entries and exits have been welded shut and all the water and power supply has been rerouted around that structure. Soon our little mercenaries will not only be starving, but also freezing to death. Even their weapons can't help them now. They're trapped in their own betrayal."

She almost smiled, yet that concerned look was still there. "How do you think Jovis will react to us killing his men?"

Koll knew she would ask that, he had hoped she would. He'd rehearsed the daredevil smile he gave her. "Kill? My dearest, I have no intention of harming a single hair on their heads. All they have to do is lay down their weapons and surrender. I'll put them on one of the small shuttles belonging to this station and they'll be flown right off this planet." He chuckled. "I'm their employer; I can fire them, but I can't fire _at _them."

Sasa smiled and even gave a short laugh.

They were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hologram hovering over his desk. The size of a hand, Koll recognized the scrambled face of the man that had hired him and his army. Koll pushed away the sudden fear that went through his heart.

"General Riokon," the hidden man said in a deep dark voice.

Koll nodded respectfully. "I was unaware we'd agreed to communicate at this time, Eclipos."

The hologram shifted, a distortion passing over its few features. "We have not. However, some information has passed my way that I feel obliged to share with you. In response to the failed insertion the Republic has just launched a task force heading for Regana."

Koll sat down at the desk, running a palm over his face. "Task force?"

"A group of three Star Destroyers, led by an Admiral Gout Saul."

Koll nodded, a brief smile passed over his lips. "Three Star Destroyers," he looked over at his beautiful wife, "excellent."

"How are things on Regana?"

Koll turned his attention back to the hologram. "Better than expected. We've rerouted the power to a safer source, and eliminated all of the best entry points. Perimeter defenses are up and running, and the cloning facility is already hard at work."

The hologram lowered its head. "Will the subject be ready in time?"

Part of their arrangement was for Koll to provide their employer with an untainted clone, one that this Master would use for himself, moving his spirit to a younger form, much like the Emperor had done countless times. "Yes. The rest of my Inner Council and troops should be arriving any moment now."

The hologram nodded. "Anything else?"

Koll thought of the clone below, but decided against mentioning it. "No, we're one hundred procent."

The hologram tilted its head, and the voice deepened. "You're lying to me, Riokon."

Koll smiled. "I have told you all that you need to know, and I once again remind you to trust me."

A chuckle. "Very well."

Koll disconnected the transmission with the flick of a button and swirled his chair to meet Sasa's confused gaze. "Do not ponder so heavily on these matters, my dear. Rest assured; everything is in control."

Sasa looped her eyes. "Really? Why didn't you tell him about the clone, our only real hostage that's still alive?"

Koll felt off guard. She'd been with him for as long as he could remember, they'd been married for decades. She never second-guessed him, she always trusted his judgement and his assessment of any situation. It felt strange to suddenly hear her question him. "You know why he's alive."

"Its insane, Koll. We should do away with him as soon as possible. He's a liability."

Koll wasn't worried. "Sonnet is with him."

Sasa had always distrusted that mysterious man known as Sonnet, though Koll considered the man to be his most trusted advisor. Koll would often counsel with Sonnet on matters of great importance. He was more a shaman than anything else. Sasa didn't like him because she didn't know what went on during those private session the man shared with Koll. Always a shadow in black, Sasa couldn't recall a time having ever seen Sonnet's real face. But Sasa admitted he was a great asset to their cause, and she could definetly feel the vibrant energy swirling inside the promising acolyte.

Koll walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly and laid his head on hers. "Every great accomplishment has some risks."

"So do the failures."

Koll placed a small kiss in her hair, soothing the tension between them. "He's our prisoner. Without the Force he can do nothing - "

"He's my brother," she said abruptly. "Believe me, if he wants to he can do plenty of damage. He is dangerous, Koll. Everyone knows it but you."

Koll understood her. He didn't want to risk the clone running free any more than she did. He had no intentions of keeping it alive, his threat about injecting ysalamiri genes was no more than that; a threat. He wasn't planning on keeping it alive long enough to need such a surgery. He just liked seeing the man squirm. He liked letting the clone know that his fate was in his hands. Koll added some pressure to his hold on her and softened his voice. "Down in the dungeon, when I drew my blaster, you stepped in the way. Why?"

Her shoulders tightened beneath his hands, suddenly feeling afraid. "I...don't know. Old reflexes."

He understood. "You want to talk to him before we kill him, don't you?"

She sighed. "I guess...he's still my brother in some part."

"It's alright," he said, "I don't blame you. I felt the same way."

Sasa relaxed in his arms, falling into him, exhaling most of her anxiety. "I don't know. It just…we're so close to our goal. It feels stupid to take risks now, espicially for personal reasons." She turned around and placed her forehead on his chest. "He killed our son, Koll. How much longer should we postpone his death?"

Koll ran his fingers down her back, and back up, caressing her in the ways he knew she liked. "He'll be dead before the day is through, I promise you." His heart darkened at the thought of his encounter with Skind Kjoil in the lift, the anger he'd felt had almost pushed him into insanity. But soon it would end, with the death of the clone, Skind Kjoil's ghost could no longer haunt him.

She turned to look at him, a worry passing over her face. "You...something is wrong."

Koll closed his eyes, avoiding to look her in the eyes. "Has Skind ever...talked to you? Talked to you from the other side?"

She tensed up immediately. "As a ghost? No."

Koll suspected as much. "I saw him...yesterday. After I left the clone he showed himself to me in the lift."

Sasa's breathing became shorter, her heart pounding against her chest. "What did he say?"

"He mocked me. He wants me to kill the clone because it will set him free. And as much as I want him to suffer, I know I have to do it. For equilibrium." He winced. "It was strange, Sasa. He was right there, alive and breathing for all I knew. I was...a little happy to see him again. But it felt so strange, he was the man I remembered. Not the hateful image that I've been building up in my mind. I felt young again." He opened his eyes, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "I missed him so much."

Her hands went around his waist, holding him tight. "He was my brother as much as yours. If not more."

Koll buried his face in her shoulder. "I hate him, Sasa. I hate him _so much_...because I miss him."

She didn't say anything, but tightened her arms around him. Koll was a pillar of strength and resolve, but she knew the sensitive side beneath all his armor. The same caring nature that had propelled him into their mission, a warrior with the heart of a pacifist.

He caressed the back of her neck, scenting her hair. "Its been a long time since I've held you like this."

"Too long," she muttered.

Koll nodded. "I remember when we used to lay in bed for days and just talk and make love."

Sasa remembered those days with great happiness, but lately those memories were fading more and more. She missed those times. "Those days died…with our son."

Koll sighed. "The pain drove us apart."

Sasa shook her head against his chest. "No, we drew apart. We were both hurt and we didn't talk about it. We should have talked about it."

Koll fought to keep himself from remembering those times too much. "Skar died. What was there to talk about?"

She pulled back slightly, so she could look into his eyes. "Look where we are, Koll. We're in control of an army of twenty thousand professional soldiers and killers. We've taken over one of the most lucrative repair yards in the Galaxy and we're about to destroy Coruscant in the name of vengeance. Let's face it; there was never room for a family between us. We've never been cut out to be parents, Koll. Where does a son fit in?"

Koll hesitated, he didn't like feeling emotional when there was work to be done. "What about Junn? She joined up with the troops."

Sasa caressed his shoulder. "She is not ours, Koll. And as much as I know you think of her as a daughter, she isn't. We have a wonderful friend in her, a great asset, but her life is polluted by us as well."

"She is as much a daughter to me, as Krych is a son to you."

Sasa thought of Krych. While it was true that the relationship between Master and Apprentice sometimes went beyond that, and she couldn't deny feeling like she had a son in Krych, it just wasn't true. Krych was not her son, but she was proud to be his Master.

"Skar was our weakness," Koll said carefully. "Now we are strong, just you and I."

Sasa felt slightly furious. "Some people think parents grow by their children, we could have learned from them as well."

Koll ran his palm across her cheek. "Sasa, I know we've failed as parents but as warriors we will prevail."

Sasa leaned back into him. "But for whom? We're both long past our primes. We won't live to see the revolution. We're only lashing out because we feel betrayed . We won't be around to see the consequences of our commitment."

"Does it matter?" Koll hugged her as much as he could, whispering into her ear. "Its been my lifelong dream to fix the decay spreading through the Republic's channels and connections, the disease that is infecting everyone it touches. The Republic is doomed to fail, its cornerstone was the Jedi and they were its only strength. But even they couldn't prevent the pieces from falling down. Malicious as it may seem, I want to bring the Galaxy into a turmoil, into a frenzy where people finally realize they have to take their lives into their own hands. They can't hide behind a signet and trust governmental leaders to make them safe. Security starts at home, inside, and people have to see that. Its the only way the Galaxy can feel safe again."

Sasa wanted that dream to come true as well, but there were other facets of the truth to consider. Things they couldn't ignore. "Coruscant's fall will fan into a hundred wars and millions will die."

Koll pressed his lips against her forehead, closing his eyes. "The Sons of Destiny will live out The Dream as our progeny. You know our mission doesn't end here, Sasa, there will be thousands more afterwards. And people will swarm to them as a unit. The Sons of Destiny will be the guardians of the Galaxy and they will set the tone for how the world must truly strive. Their sphere of influence will engulf hundreds of worlds, hundreds of people, and their power will be endless."

Sasa felt small inside his arms. "A new Empire, using the same tools that Palpatine used; fear."

Koll shrugged. "The Empire did some good things too. Fear governs the spirit, it invokes new thinking and instinctual living. Only through fear can the world evolve and find a true, better nature."

"But what about us? Where do we go?"

"We flow with the stream."

Sasa looked up at him. "What about our love? Will it emerge again or will we continue to fight as we always have, leaving other dreams in lack of fulfillment?"

Koll turned his head to look out the window. The soldiers had already primed the detonators and were ready to blow the bridge. "As you said," Koll gave his platoon leader a single nod and braced himself for impact, "those days died with our son."

* * *

When the _Civilian _finally broke out of hyperspace, Jovis sat back in his chair with a nervous sigh escaping his lips. He realized all too well that ever since he'd signed up with the terrorists his heart had been working at tripled effect, he wasn't usually this uptight during a mission, but this deal was different from those in the past. Most of the time they were hired to go directly into combat, not all these secondary tasks or standing guard. He wasn't sure which way he liked the most. The calmness had its perks, he just wished it was over soon, waiting made him more and more tense.

He considered his trip to Myrkr very productive, they'd managed to ensnare twenty of the ysalamiri creatures, and he believed his General would be pleased. Finding the creatures had not been difficult, but fending off their natural enemy, the vornskrs, had been grueling to say the least. Jovis had fought all his life, but he'd never encountered anyone or anything that had given him as much as a hassle as those vicious canines. He'd left with ten men but only eight remained now. Two of them had bought it when they'd met their first vornskr.

The first man had been attacked and sizing what they'd found of him, they hadn't bothered trying to salvage the rest of him. The second man however had tried to rescue him, but he'd never returned from the wilderness.

All in all Jovis counted his luck, and considered the mission a success. Considering the payment it was well worth it. He could always find new guns for hire, but money was much more scarce. The locals of Myrkr had told him about the ysalamiri. He was interested to note that the creatures exhibited a bubble in the Force that nullified its power. Any Jedi within ten meters of a ysalamiri would lose his connection to its power and be deprived of his strength. Jovis had, of course, noted this to be the main usage that the General intended the ysalamiri for.

Possibly even against this Jedi intruder that had been lurking outside their base when he'd left. Jovis hadn't communicated with Regana since then, but when the _Civilian _returned to the system the terrorist stronghold on the surface of the planet looked the same. No damage, no scoring, and personnel hustled about outside in the now almost empty and freezing scrap-yard. Still the same misplaced feat of technology in the middle of a icy blizzard.

All of this he read from his screens because the moment they'd shot through the atmosphere they were met with the ferocity of the constant wild winds. Neither Jovis nor Akla could make any visual confirmation of the base, all they had was its signal.

The _Civilian _was rocked from side to side, making Jovis more than a little queasy. Akla kept his focus at his console, the Arkanian never expressing anything but complete concentration, using their sensors to guide them through the turmoil. A thick white carpet hung over the viewport, allowing them to see nothing but the never-changing twirls of miniature twisters swirling over their ship's hull.

Jovis hoped that Akla knew what he was doing. Jovis couldn't tell what was up or down anymore, everything was just a thick blur. A nasty shake moved through the ship and nearly threw Jovis out of his command chair.

"Should I be worried?" he asked over his shoulder, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Akla cast him a very uncharacteristic smug grin. "About what?"

Jovis nodded to himself and closed his eyes. If something was wrong, or if they were about to crash, Jovis wasn't sure he wanted to know. The ship flip-flopped into a sudden dive that almost made Jovis heave because of the sudden change of direction. He felt like he was standing in an express-lift going straight down, only then to go straight back up, before circling around itself and starting over. The flight was unbearable, and Jovis prayed for it to end soon.

Jovis reopened his eyes at just the wrong time. Out of the viewport he could make out a dark shape of something inside the storm heading right for them. A shadow moved behind the veils of the white storm, like a giant cetacean about to surface water.

"Brace yourself!" Akla cried as he forced the _Civilian _into a sharp plunge.

Whatever it was went right over them, shadowing the bridge in complete darkness as it passed. The bridge shook with tiny vibrations as this second ship flew overhead, looming over them for several seconds before disappearing completely.

And when it was gone, Jovis sat back with his mouth open, staring at the roaring winds outside with a new appreciation. His nails dug out of the leather on his command chair as he slowly turned his head to look at Akla. He wouldn't have been surprised if the man had vanished into thin air along with the rest of the ship behind him, infact he rather anticipated it. But Akla was still there, still tapping away on his controls, eyes concentrating on the screen in front of him.

Jovis had been staring at him for a very long time before the alien looked up and noticed his surprised face and open mouth.

"Are you alright, sir?"

Jovis collected himself quickly, not really sure how to answer Akla's question. "What the blazes was that?"

"A transport," Akla said with a snort, "a big one."

"Big?" Jovis asked. "Was it one of those _Watchmen_-type ships?" Jovis remembered the mammoth slug-like ships that he'd seen when he'd first arrived on Regana for this job. The ones that had been emptied and scrapped.

Akla shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. The ship doesn't appear in any of our records. If it had been a _Watchmen_, we would have identified it." Akla shifted in his seat. "Besides, the _Watchmen _on Regana have already been dismantled."

Jovis nodded, he was right. And it bothered Jovis that he'd never had the courage or the memory to ask the General what they were using all those ship-parts for. He made a note to himself to ask the next time he got the chance. For now the mystery of that ship appearing out of nowhere was more than enough to puzzle him.

Jovis leaned back into his seat, and found it mildly comforting to see the winds clear up outside his viewport.

The _Civilian _eased its way through the rest of the storm and arrived without any further incidents in the same hangar they'd been assigned to the last time. Once the ship was settled, Jovis made his way to the stern and immediately handed out orders. He wanted those ysalamiri off his ship as soon as possible. Akla helped rally the men together, organizing them into groups. Though the ysalamiri were not that large, their cages were, and heavy too.

Jovis supervised the moving, waiting for the General to arrive and welcome him back. He was expecting a good pat on the back for a job well done. Jovis even felt slightly proud, almost giddily. He couldn't wait for the General to see -

A heavy explosion went off nearby and Jovis and his men were all thrown on their backs. The hangar trembled violently and ceiling panels fell from the sky, bouncing loudly against the hull of the _Civilian_. One of his men got pounded by a panel, knocked out instantly. Jovis was still trying to get the ringing out of his ears when he ducked beneath the _Civilian _for cover. Akla was already there. Jovis wasn't sure but he thought he heard klaxons blaring in the distance.

Had they been attacked? Jovis wished he knew. He thought of calling the General on his comlink, but as long as his ears kept ringing he wouldn't understand what the other man said anyway.

Akla was shouting something, but Jovis couldn't hear him. The hangar was still shaking from the initial explosion when a second one followed, this one much louder. The hangar they were in felt like the center of an earthquake, like some god had taken the hangar into the hand and decided to bounce it up against a wall like a ball. Jovis banged his head several times on the underbelly of the _Civilian_, Akla was clutching the fabric by his neck, shouting in vowels.

Whatever had happened, Jovis was sure it was bad.

When no more explosions followed Jovis pushed his men back into work, happy he couldn't hear their curses over the ringing in his ears. Akla was the one who pointed out to him that ships were arriving on the planet. Large transports, though smaller than the _Watchmen_, fitting the same characteristc slug-like design. Jovis and Akla watched as the ships flew over their heads and proceeded to their own hangars. Jovis couldn't figure out why the General had deemed it necessary to bring in more troops. There were already thousands of them on Regana.

Jovis turned on his heels when he faintly heard doors slide open in the back of the hangar. Unlike the last time he'd arrived on Regana he found himself smiling as he saw the General of the terrorists come walking towards him. The man moved lightly across the floor of the hangar, his eyes focused on the boxes filled with ysalamiri being unloaded at the stern of the _Civilian_.

Jovis saluted him with a smile when they met halfway across the hangar. "Mission accomplished, General - "

"The money's already been transferred to your account," the General said without a hint of a happy note in his voice as he walked past Jovis without breaking stride, he only stared at the ysalamiri being unloaded at the _Civilian_. There was a sudden look of fatigue in his eyes. "I..I thank you."

Jovis's smile faded. "You're welcome. General, about those new ships - "

"They are bringing in our ground assault vehicles, as well as the last of my Inner Council," he said in a monoton voice.

Jovis didn't understand. "But the _Watchmen _- "

"Were only carrying our troops, all twenty thousand of them."

The mercenary leader still wasn't comforted. "One of them was. The other four _Watchmen _- "

"Serve another purpose. With this new arrival, we are full in numbers and armament. These new cruiseres will also be dismantled soon."

Jovis still didn't understand. "You're tearing apart all of our capital ships," Jovis himself noted the use of the word _our_, "for what? You're stranding us here."

"We still have the B-wings and the station's smaller shuttles. They are sufficient for our needs, I assure you." The General turned his eyes to him, a seriousness behind them he couldn't decipher. "There's a matter we need to discuss."

Jovis held out his hands. "Sure."

Carrying a growing wary sensation in his belly that he suspected was more than indigestion, Jovis walked after the General out of the hangar, with Akla in tow. Jovis could hear as well as feel the quick breathing of his Arkanian subordinate behind him, Akla was also worried about something.

The General was taking them lower into the central building than he'd ever been before. The deeper they went underground Jovis began to feel more warm, a thick humidity in the air that made him feel like he'd stepped into another atmosphere. It felt more like a jungle down here, and he could tell from Akla's sudden gasp that he'd noticed it too.

Jovis looked over his shoulder, could barely make out Akla's solid-white eyes in the darkness of the tunnel and gave him a brief nod of encouragement, wishing he could somehow address the newfound fear he felt. Akla still walked with his natural dignity, yet he seemed to divert a lot of his attention to the back of the General, perhaps still carrying a grudge from the terrorist's previous insult about the Yaka and the Arkanians.

For the moment Jovis wished he could trade places with Akla. The Arkanian could see in infrared and the growing darkness of the tunnel began to worry Jovis. Where were they talking them? What were they keeping this far down?

The General palmed a pad next to a door that Jovis couldn't even see and a growing square of light appeared in front of them. It was only then that Jovis noticed the woman, the dark beauty as he'd come to think of her, was joining them, bringing up the rear with her silent steps.

Her and Jovis exchanged looks in the slightly lit corridor, but it wasn't the kind of look he was hoping for. She gave him a glare of scrutiny and then nodded ahead towards the doorway.

"Go," her voice almost a whisper.

Jovis walked forward, entering the next room with Akla coming up beside him. The door closed behind them and the woman sealed it from the inside. The room consisted of a large space, one that Jovis suspected had been emptied for its new purpose. Five man-size cages were lined against the wall to his left, draped with white sheets. A few technicians were scurrying at the other end of the chamber, welders cutting through the thick metal walls, creating holes and tunnels through them half the size of a man. Jovis could feel an even greater amount of heat inside this room and noticed sets of very bright projectors spread throughout the room, the brightness of it all almost blinding him, the heavy screech of laser on metal in the back almost deafening him.

With a wave of his hand the noise quieted down to absolute silence, as the General marched towards the five cages covered in sheets.

Kayupa held out his hand, ripped it aside and the sheets flew away. A loud animal-like cry resonated through the chamber from all five of the creatures. Jovis took a step back in fear, bumping into the woman, who remained like a solid block of stone, unflinching by the five feline predators in the five cages.

Kayupa moved his hand again and the projectors at the other end of the room turned off, drowning the room in thick darkness. Jovis thought about running for his life. Something didn't feel right at all about this. What were they up to?

A faint light appeared ahead of him, a glowing bubble surrounding Kayupa's hand as he moved closer to one of the cages. Inside it the predator stalked him behind the thick metal bars, screeching and scratching, roaring in its heinous treble. The creature was half the size of a man, walking on four legs, their leathery skin a pale gray color which filled Jovis with fear.

Their feet and fingers had razor sharp claws on them. Yellow eyes shone through small rows of horns that made up for eyebrows, as Kayupa walked ever closer to it, holding up his hand, bathing the animal in some unnatural light. A two meter long tail whipped back and forth behind the deadly feline, a small blade at the end of the tail. Their jaws were laced with multiple rows of sharp teeth; the presence and look of the creature so terrifying that Jovis didn't think too hard on how the General had conjured a light from nothing.

"This is called a vhronik," he stated, his voice carrying and echoing through the darkened chamber, "it is a native of a planet called Kryuu. A people there revered this creature as a sort of deity, treating it like a god and used it to test their faith. The vhronik have a very strong connection to the Force, which the Jedi serve," their leader explained, a level of respect in his voice, "a vhronik kills those who are not strong enough with the Force, those who are not aware of their power."

Jovis only listened with half an ear, too much fear and repulsion was running through his mind to remember the details of what he'd said. "You had them brought in as well?"

"Yes," the General said as he neared the creature. The animal snarled at the General as he came closer, a look of angry hunger in its evil eyes. The General placed his face right up close to the bars, staring down on the sneering beast.

Jovis felt scared out of his mind.

"We've starved them for a very long time," the General said loudly, "I think its time for them to feed again." He backed away from the cage and nodded to a nearby technician. "Release it."

The technician looked dumbfound. "Sir - "

"Release it!" the General roared.

Reluctantly the technician deactivated the single cage from a nearby console. The bars lifted and the creature was free.

Jovis had never been so terrified in his life.

The vhronik lunged at the General instantly, leaping from its cage in a single jump and landing in front of Koll, two feet of air all that separated them. Snarling the creature attacked, its tail whipping around it and flashing through the air. The General jumped back, putting more distance between them. The creature stared at them all, devoting a special amount of attention to the group of technicians scurrying in the back of the room to its left. It dug its claws into the floor and prepared to pounce -

But he stepped in between it and its would-be meal.

"No, not them," he whispered, his eyes full of glee, "they're not what you want."

The animal snarled in reply, setting itself for an attack. And then it leaped, coming at him with its claws flared, its jaws wide apart, and its heart full of hunger for him. The man never wavered, he watched interestingly as the creature flew through the air, merely seconds from reaching him. Jovis felt like pushing the man away, but before he could move to help his General, he had already moved.

Pivoting on his heels he moved to the left, his hand reaching inside his dark coat to pull out a cylindrical golden object. Next thing Jovis knew, Koll had ignited a beam of pure crimson red from his weapon, awaiting the creature's next assault.

_Jedi_, Jovis thought. _He's Jedi! _

Almost afraid to, he looked behind him at the woman. She must've been expecting his look, because she opened her cloak slightly to let him see a similar weapon attached to her belt.

_They're both Jedi. _

He hadn't seen any evidence of them being so before, and that was why it shocked him so much. He'd never heard of any Jedi leaving the New Republic. The Jedi Order as it was, to his best knowledge, was scattered and still work-in-progress.

But as he watched the General engage in combat with the vhronik, he knew for certain that his employer was anything but a trainee. With deadly speed and unmatched grace for a man his age he approached the creature, his weapon of light shrouding the room in a thick red. The creature moved from side to side, its gray scales almost black in the lilac lighting.

Though he couldn't claim to know much about animal behavior, he did note the hesitation the creature exhibited. It was afraid of the General, its moves focusing more on moving away from him rather than attacking head-on.

The General forced it further and further back in the chamber, pinning it in a corner. With his lightsaber held pointing at the floor by his hip, he moved slower and slower towards it, a grim smile on his lips.

Inside his mind, this was not a vhronik. It wasn't even an animal. It was the object of his hate for the last thirteen years, the clone of his dead master. It was the face that had existed in the back of his mind for what seemed like forever. It was his everlasting torment. And he took great pleasure in the way it cowered, trapped in the corner of the room, unable to escape him. Afraid, defenseless, powerless against his hatred. How he'd dreamed of this moment, how it felt almost real to picture Skind's face on that creature. It felt almost perfect

Biting his teeth together he swiped the blade down, cutting the animal in two down its side. It cried out in terrible screams, its scales burning and filling the room with the scent of burnt flesh. Koll struck again, severing its long thrashing tail from its body.

Its sorrow-filled eyes looked up at him with a desperate plea for him to stop. It had accepted him as worthy, he was strong, he was not its prey anymore. It acknowledged his power. Koll stood back for a moment, watching the animal writhe in its pain, watching with perverse pleasure how his Master begged for compassion, admitting his weakness against him.

_Now _it was perfect.

He knew through the Force how his son had once fought against these creatures on Kryuu, how his son had given in to his anger. He'd filled their caves with screams and carnage as he'd killed several of these carnivores with great fury. And it seemed now, that Koll could almost taste his son's anger, his power through the Force. He felt as if his son was standing right next to him, sharing this moment of equal hate and disgust at these creatures. The completion Koll felt accenting that emotion almost brought him to tears, the cries of the creature as it wailed in pain only heightening his pleasure.

Koll's hand tightened on the hilt and for the moment, nothing existed around him. There was only him and his son, together again. Sharing one of those proud moments of union that the clone had deprived him of.

For a moment he was almost complete.

Out of the corner of his focus he felt another presence in the Force. The vhronik's screams ended with an abrupt crack as its throat twisted and its neck broke. The creature flattened on the floor, and the room filled with a terrible silence.

Koll turned around, seeing Sasa standing behind Jovis and his Arkanian companion. Her hand was held out towards the dead vhronik. An instant of anger washed through him, but he could do nothing to undo what she had done. Her compassion for the creature had ruined his moment, and while he might resent her for it, she would not suffer for it. The love they shared, amended any fault. He accepted her actions, though it felt all too familiar.

Koll shook his head, clearing his mind of those thoughts and powered down his saber.

Jovis looked back and forth between them all. "It couldn't have been easy obtaining these creatures? Why kill it then?"

Reattaching his lightsaber to his belt Koll grinned and nodded to one of the technicians hiding in the back of the chamber. "Release the others."

With some hesitation the technician complied. The four other cages opened and the quartet of vhroniks were freed. But unlike the first one, they left their cages with great caution. Their claws clicked on the floor as they moved out as one. But they went no further than the outer area of their cages. They sat back on their hides and looked around as if inspecting the premises. Their yellow eyes passed over every living being in the room, but they did not attack.

Like loyal pets they just sat there, awaiting the commands from their master. Their owner.

Koll caught the look of surprise on Jovis's face as he witnessed it. Even the Arkanian was taken aback by the sight. Sasa only smiled grimly.

Jovis looked back at him, a very broad look of stupidity on his face.

"Domesticated Jedi-killers, Jovis," Koll said loud enough for anyone to hear. "A terrorist's best friend."

The mercenary leader made a nervous smile. "General Kayupa - "

"Koll," he corrected him, "my name is Koll Riokon." Koll didn't care for explaining further why he hadn't revealed his true name earlier. "These vhroniks are only a portion of the herd I had brought in, there are more caves like being built around the facility. The ysalamiri are also to be distributed through out the entire facility. I want you, Jovis, to ensure the full completion of that task. Take a small work crew and organize it." He took out a small datapad from inside his coat and handed it to Jovis. "Here's where I want you to place them."

Jovis took a look at the small screen and frowned. "This will put them in even numbers all over the facility."

Koll nodded. "On top of unused storage lifts currently at the very lowest of this base."

Jovis rubbed his chin. "But their Force bubbles won't be effective at that level."

Koll just stood there. "I know. Another thing; The men you left behind when you went to Myrkr have turned to mutiny, Jovis. That explosion you heard were shape charges I had placed around their current position. I've locked them in for the time being. And I do not blame you, but I hope you understand that they can't stay here."

Jovis looked furious at first, but then he looked around at the room he was in and realized he was terribly outmatched if he wanted to start a fight. A look of clarity came over his face, as well as the Arkanian's, when they both realized why they'd been brought down here.

Jovis cleared his throat. "I understand."

"If they've done it once, they can do it again. Its best to ship them out immediately. And I suggest you give them the _Civilian_."

Jovis's eyes widened. "No chance in - "

Koll held out his hands. "Jovis, you're not a mercenary anymore. You're one of us, and once this mission is completed you will possess a wealth unequaled by any mercenary in today's records. You will leave the game with the record, on to live a life in honor, fighting for me. You can have any ship you want."

Jovis liked the ideas, but the _Civilian _was a personal effect. He didn't like handing it over to those moronic gun-slingers. But he also knew he wouldn't survive the next few minutes if he turned down the General. "There are other shuttles on this station that could - "

Koll shook his head. "Forget them. I _need _for you to give them the _Civilian_, as proof of your loyalty, as a display of faith."

Jovis felt manipulated. It was strange; he wanted what the General promised him, but he still felt like he was forced to actually take it. Jovis nodded, feeling some that fear in his heart be replaced with prospects of a rich honorable life as a warrior, a crusader.

"Alright."

Koll smiled. "Good. After all; its just business. Not personal."

Jovis's jaw tightened. "Right. _Business_."

* * *

Satisfied and secure in the belief that Jovis would not become a problem, Koll took Sasa under his arm and returned to the upper levels of the main structure. Jovis and the Arkanian had been put to work, he'd assigned them to bring the ysalamiri to the lower levels, to the cloning area where those creatures would soon be put to good use. But before he went to check on that progress he had to welcome his new guests.

Since Junn's unfortunate accident a stirring of insecurity had been growing among the soldiers. It was vital that they squashed that insecurity before it grew and crippled their abilities and self-confidence. And that encouragement came in the form of five new additions to their army.

Apart from himself, Sasa, and the soldiers there existed a collection of Jedi who'd joined their cause over the years, Sonnet only being one of them. Specialists in their own areas, Masters at their craft. The two Masters had been part of Koll's original mission during the Old Republic, together they'd left the Republic behind once its judgement started to falter. Since then they'd worked together to create the greatest army that the Galaxy would ever witness.

Hand in hand they entered the hangar, the sight of a familiar cruiser parked in their hangar bringing new confidence to their spirits. Together they walked to stand at the base of the ramp of the newly arrived transport.

The first one to show himself was Eknath, the slumped-over, bald headed psychopath, dressed in a ragged gray robe. Eknath wasn't quite human, his skin had the same color of ash as his worn robe, with black depressions like thin black scars running across his body. His force was telepathy and psychometry, and so his codename was Prophet. His expressionless face showed all the signs of a deeply introspective and cunning genius of mind-power.

He descended the ramp with deliberately slow steps, a shadow moving behind him. Cowering in the shade of his telepathic Master was Joon, recently aged fifteen. Barely having reached puberty yet, he was young, and had trained all his life to be a servant of his powerful Master. Koll knew him to be nothing more than an extended arm of Master Eknath's power, which was why he'd been aptly named Tragedy among the troops, and to himself, which at least showed he was somewhat aware of the unfairness that was his life.

Eknath smiled warmly as he bowed before Koll, the robes hanging on his thin form. "My Master," his voice was a snake-like whisper, his eyes red like fire, his lean face almost inviting if one didn't know what devilry existed beneath his surface. "The Force is with us."

Koll extended his hands and shook the long thin hand of Eknath with both palms. "It brings comfort to my soul to see you again, Master Eknath."

While they expressed their joy at seeing each other again, Joon, the apprentice, stood in his Master's shadow, dressed all in black. His eyes concentrating on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, his eyes always intense and a bit afraid. Old scars on his face showed how fiercely Master Eknath punished failure.

Sasa felt great sadness inside whenever she felt Joon's presence. The boy would never live a fulfilling life as Eknath's apprentice. He would always be a shadow of someone else, merely a tool for Eknath to use. Though sharp and wary always, it seemed there was no intelligence behind those youthful blue eyes, no childlike innocense. He was a servant as much as one could be. His own faltering identity was being squashed under his Master's ruthless and demanding persona. A clumsy and dirty lightsaber was clipped to his belt across the black tunic.

Eknath turned his red eyes to Sasa, and she recollected the nightmares she'd had in the past that he'd starred in. In many ways she had never grown accustomed to the Master's scary persona. She feared him because she knew he could enter her mind as easily as he could break Joon's spirit. Nothing was hidden from him. It was like standing in front of a vhronik; you knew you couldn't show fear because that would only make it attack, but the bear already knew you were afraid. Sasa feared what would ever happen if Sonnet and Eknath ever decided to gang up on her in her nightmares.

Eknath extended his slender hand and Sasa shook it quickly, the sensation of his wrinkled flesh wrapped over his cold bones and his yellow nails made her shiver. "Welcome, Master Eknath."

"Mistress Sasa, you become more stunning with each day that passes," he bent down to kiss her palm, but she pulled it back, "and quicker too."

She smiled politely. Eknath had always been part of their plan ever since they'd learned that cloning created a disturbance in the Force. With Eknath as their spiritual handyman he could counter that threat.

"An urgent matter regarding the cloning phase of our plan requires your expert attention, my friend," Koll sounded sincere enough that even some of Sasa's apprehension faded, "but we will discuss this matter in more detail once we're all settled."

"Excellent," the skeleton-like Eknath said and turned to his apprentice and they both set into motion.

Coming down the ramp behind them was Master Raine. One half Sasa's size, but twice her age, he was a very old Master, supporting his body on an old wooden cane. The oldest of the bunch, his old wrinkled fingers betrayed the youth and stamina he possessed in the Force. He was also the only one in their unit not devoted to the Dark Side, still a pure Jedi he claimed he went wherever the Force took him, and the last many years the Force had chosen him to help them. This view of the Force had earned him the name of Finality.

Hovering behind him in a giant cage, suspended by the Force, was the apprentice, Ragh. Of a species Sasa had yet to define, he was three times the height of his Master and three sizes abroad as well. Ragh wore only a loincloth made from the hides of ripclaws, red already in fabric but with dried spots of blood in several places.

His face was a maze of piercing and tattoos, huge rusty rings hung from his nostrils, and studs ran up the front of his nose. He was more animal than man, more creature than sentient. Big as a tank and with the muscles to go with it, he was one gigantic monster of anger and hate. Banging his fists against the bars, Ragh snarled and spat at anything his dumb animal-like eyes found.

Raine had to occasionally use the Force to calm the creature down, Ragh was only released from his cage in combat, and when he was free everyone knew it was wisest to stay as far away as possible. Not to picky about what he ate, anyone could end up as a snack. Koll had once joked that Ragh was so immense that he was like a planet onto himself, and because no one got away untouched when he broke loose, he was called Gravity.

Raine bowed slowly before Koll bent down on one knee to see eye-to-eye with the Master.

"Welcome, Master Raine."

The tired and withered face that hid beneath his heavy hood was that of a warm fragile old man. Unlike with Master Eknath, Sasa had always enjoyed Raine's company. Considered the wisest and most experienced of them all, he was quick to start a philosophical debate. His weak exterior often betrayed the high intellect and quick reflexes he hid so well.

"Thank you, Master Koll," the kind and friendly voice said, with hints of genuine happiness beneath it. "Have you room for a bothersome old man?"

Koll smiled affectionately, and Sasa couldn't help it either. "Always, my friend."

Raine nodded carefully and limped past them, the sound of his cane touching the floor following him and the suspended Ragh behind him as he left them.

"What, no flowers?" said a young voice up the ramp.

Caught off guard Sasa smiled truly for the first time that day and her joy was so great that Koll sensed it, wrapping his arm around her as the last new addition casually walked down the ramp.

Krych was not her first apprentice, nor would he be the last. He had long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, with a few strands of it dancing across his face. Krych's lightsaber itself was made of silver, laced with rings of gold, its reflection shining in Sasa's eyes. The apprentice wore a tunic over his bare chest, strips of black fabric wrapped around his arms, highlighting the muscles brought on by extensive training. Krych was young, but the way he carried himself gave off the impression of a confident man, not a boy. A man who'd seen his share of combat and warfare. Sasa's proudest creation and the closest thing she had to a son.

Now.

Sasa embraced him fully, dispensing with the tired old tradition of the apprentice bowing before the Master. She was too happy for that, and she relished the sensation he sent through her, that maternal instinct that he evoked in her.

"Welcome," she said warmly, and for the first time that day she really meant it. "Thank you so much for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, glancing at Koll over her shoulder. "Thanks for having me, General."

Koll clasped the man's shoulder, shaking it a little. "We're beyond titles, Krych. And anyone who can make my wife beam like this is always welcome."

Krych smiled like a giddy child, but something passed over his face as he looked around. That was when Sasa remembered that task she had been dreading. The thing she had tried not to think of until she had to give its worthy attention.

Krych's youth vanished in a second. "Where's Junn?"

* * *

Wearing a big cloak instead of her usual military uniform, Junn leaned herself against the railing. Atop the highest building belonging to the station, she pulled the sleeves down deliberately over her right hand to hide it from view. It was a habit she'd noticed in herself in the last few days, one she excersized even when no one was around. The cold wind beated against her face, forcing forth tears that needed little incentive.

She had tried to remain straightened as she walked down the hallways of the station. Occasionally she would be passed by soldiers who greeted and saluted her as usual. She did her best to return their greetings, but she had to remind herself each time to use the left hand. She also couldn't help noticing their eyes focusing on the sleeve over her right hand, and each time it stabbed in her chest.

She read pity and sympathy where she'd once read respect and reverence, and she hated it. Her new prostetic still wasn't responding the way she wanted it to, but mostly because she hadn't taken the time to aquaint herself with it. She did her best not to use it, unwilling to accept the situation. It didn't feel right, it felt like an abormination on her right wrist. Like a disease, an infection she could never shed.

She couldn't cry away the shame she felt inside, the feeling of failure that was only supported by the fact that her General had not even bothered to contact her since the injury. She knew she'd be safe from her own shame only when she was alone. Crying in plain view of her soldiers was another disgrace, one she did her best to avoid.

The first time she'd left the infirmary with her new hand the nearest lift she'd found had the slowest doors she'd ever experienced. And the descent alone through dozens of levels had felt like a sanctuary, only broken by the chime as the lift had reached its level and the doors reopened. Junn was running constantly inside her own mind, trying to break free of chains that were never there, thinking up infantile excuses for her own fear. But she could never quite escape her own scrutiny.

Through Sasa she'd learned that the Jedi responsible for her injury was still kept alive, but the woman wouldn't say why. Junn had pondered maybe going to see the Jedi, to look the man in the eyes, but for what good she couldn't see.

Her world had changed so much, she'd never felt so helpless. Three days ago she was a warrior, ready to fight and die for her General if he asked her to. But now she felt more vulnerable than ever, weak and defenseless. She saw now how her life before only held value when she was rewarded by her superior, how hollow and meaningless it had been. She knew a war was brewing inside the station beneath her boots, but to her the world was suddenly so much more than warfare and fighting.

She'd lost her hand and most of her effectiveness in combat, but not because she was missing a limb. Because she'd seen the face of Death closer than ever before. Her injury was not critical enough to kill her, but nevertheless a part of her had died. What parts that remained of her had yet to determine where they wanted to be in the life she still had in store.

The lift onto the roof chimed before the doors opened and Junn's heart felt lifted only a second before it fell crashing to the surface far below.

"Strange place to find you," a familiar voice said, "no targets in sight."

Junn turned to face him, hiding her hands away inside her sleeves. Seeing Krych, her lover through many years, brought to her a feeling of safety and warmth, but her eyes did their best to avoid locking with his. She felt shameful, and lesser. She didn't want to be drawn to his handsome face, just as she'd always been. "Loyalty."

He nodded, only hinting at a smile, staying a good ten feet away from her. "Eulogy."

She drew in a big breath. He'd always respected her space, until she showed him that it was okay to come closer. He knew her like that, but knowing he knew her so well did nothing to lighten her mood. It only made her feel worse. "Its good to see you again," her eyes watered and she could feel her voice breaking, "I've missed you."

The wind pulled at his long hair, and he squinted his eyes against the cold wind ripping at his bare arms. He stood right there, but it felt like lightyears between them. "Koll told me about your accident."

Sasa felt her hand throb inside the sleeve. "I see."

Krych pocketed his hands and looked out to his left, focusing on the horizon, a hurt expression on his face. "Talk to me, Junn."

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't know what to say."

Krych nodded to himself. "I just traveled from one end of the Galaxy to another to see you...but I feel like I'm even further away from you now."

Her heart broke. "I'm sorry," the tears intensified, "I have so much I want to tell you, but...I just can't. It hurts."

"Well, you have to," he said sternly, his eyes finally locking on hers, staring at her, "you have to make me understand this."

She'd dreaded him giving her no choice, but mostly because she expected it. He was strong like her, forceful and to the point. In a less weak state she would have fought him back, but she realized he deserved an explanation. She knew his hardness came only from love, and she loved him for being hard with her. Not many others were ever so honest.

She summoned the courage. "I was trailing intruders - "

"No," he said, "I know the reason. I want to know the effect."

She started to shiver from more than just the wind. "What do you mean?"

He leaned foward and took steps closer to her. "I'm not talking about your physical change, Junn. I'm talking about the change inside you. Something's different."

She smiled carefully. "Blast your Jedi senses."

He shook his head. "I haven't reached out to the Force, Junn. I'm afraid to. I want to hear it from you."

"Why?" she stuttered.

"Because I know you need to say it out loud. You may have already told others, but you haven't told _me_. And I could feel something different, and not by the Force, the moment I set foot on this planet," he smiled coyly, "and unless your feelings have changed much in the last few months, I'm still that one person deepest inside of your heart."

She could feel her own chest tightening. "This last month, I was looking forward to seeing you so much. But in the last two days, I began to fear this moment."

Krych looked away again, a hardness in his eyes. "You talk a lot, Junn, but you're not saying anything."

"You're pushing me too much - "

"Because you keep pulling back!" he yelled, his voice echoing over the wind. "Damn it, tell me and let's get it over with."

She broke completely on the inside and her pain pushed her to just spill it all out. "I can't stay here anymore. I can't fight anymore. I can't live this life anymore. I don't want it anymore, Krych. I'm done with the army. I could have died out there, and for the first time it seemed real. For the first time I thought I actually would die. I've been so stupid up until now, I thought nothing could touch me. But it can, and it did. And for the first time I realized I might never see you again."

He still didn't look at her. "I've lived with that feeling every damn time you went on a mission, Junn. Nothing's changed."

"Yes, it has."

"Why?"

She trembled with pain, her every cell screaming for understand. "Because I love you, Krych. And I know now that's more important than any of this. No ranks, no medals, no great accomplishment comes even close to that. I know you and I could be so much happier somewhere else."

He glanced at her but looked away quickly again.

"We've done our time here, Krych. I've seen enough fighting, enough blood," she started to stagger, her legs feeling faint, "I don't ever want to feel like that again. I know Koll and Sasa will accept it if we left."

Krych sighed. "My training is not over yet."

"So what?" she implored, "what does it really matter?"

He turned his side to her. "It means everything. I haven't seen or felt what you did, Junn. I love you, but I am here because I made a promise. Because I saw the kind of future we both wanted for our future children. That future is not here yet."

Junn stepped forward. "But it will be, soon. The army can do this without us."

He shook his head, refusing to look at her. "I never thought I'd hear this from you, Junn. I can't believe you'd back out now, when we're so close."

She didn't know what to say to make him see it, to make him understand, and she couldn't stand seeing that small look of disgust in his eyes. "I saw a light, Krych."

He still stared at the ground. "Koll and Sasa have been grooming us to take over once this mission is completed, you know that. To turn the army over to us once they'd made the first steps. We would be rulers of all this, Junn," he looked out over the horizon, "the very hands that shape the Galaxy. With you by my side, we could change the world, Junn, and we could still have everything you're talking about now. How can you throw away a chance at immortality?"

She cried harder. "Because I know I am not going to be here forever. And I want the rest of my life to be devoted to someone I love, and not an ideal. Think about it, I mean really think about it; I lost my hand and my entire perspective changed. If it can happen that easily, how is my judgement suitable to run a Galaxy?"

He frowned. "Dumbest thing I've ever heard you say, Junn."

She signed. "But its how I feel. I can't do it, Krych. Its not the kind of life I want anymore."

He stood there, frozen. "But it's what I want. I want to finish what I started, and live up to my promise and commitment."

She felt so lost inside. "Why? Why is it so important to you?"

He chuckled coldly. "Why? Three days ago you felt exactly the same. How can you ask me that?"

She felt helpless. "I don't want to lose you, Krych. I don't want for you to get hurt before you realize the things I did."

He looked up at her. "Well, maybe I have to. I made a promise to the Sons of Destiny before we got involved, Junn. I have to live up to it."

She didn't feel like she knew him anymore. "Because you want to change the world?"

"No," he said flatly, "because of something you've forgotten; loyalty."

Junn opened her mouth to talk, but the reality of what he'd said came with a delayed pain. She wanted to curse him for doubting her like that, but found herself at a loss for strength. And though she felt resentment towards him, she still felt like the only place she could heal completely would be in his arms.

Junn turned her back to him. "Funny...I always imagined the loyalty you're been named for included me."

He stared into her back. "It did, when we had the same ideals. You're forcing me to choose."

"No," she said softly, "I'm trying to convince you that there is only one choice...if you still love me."

"I - " he stopped talking. "I said what I wanted to say. I'll be with the others if you want to talk to me again. I can only beg you to reconsider."

She nodded. "Is there...any hope left?"

"You know me, Junn," he said, "I go where the brass tells me. As long as I have a mission, I need nothing else. I'm a soldier."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Need nothing else? Was I just a distraction to you?"

"No," he said, and his own voice started to sound frail for the first time, "you were my reward in a world where soldiers don't receive medals. The light on the other side of battle, the thing that kept me going, kept me alive." He started to turn away. "But getting involved with comrades is never a good idea. Emotional attachments, feelings of any kind, have no room on the battlefield. In a way, I owe you. If we end it here, I can go on fighting without worrying about seeing you again."

She felt like crying again, but there seemed to be no tears left. "Is it that easy for you?"

"You made it easy, Eulogy." He said nothing for several heartbeats and then turned and walked towards the lift. "And you can't blame me for living up to my name, when you do it better than anyone else."

* * *

Feeling the tension all the way to the skin that dotted the points of her long fingers, Sasa stepped through the passage as the doors slid open before her. The spherical chamber at the end of the hallway was twice the height of the door at the end of the hall and had only a singular set of stairs running down to a flat platform that took up one fifth of the sphere's size. Already there, standing in a circle around the reflective pool in the center of the platform, were her accomplices in life.

She descended the stairs and greeted them all with a nod before taking her place in the circle next to her apprentice, Krych, her tool of war. Krych graced her with a stale bow before stepping to his rightful place to her left and slightly behind her. It was the place of an apprentice to stand in the shadows of one's master. Though they had barely had time to talk since he'd arrived, now was not the place to utter such sentiments.

Koll stood in the center of their circle, hands firmly placed at his lower back. His face was strong, the stern eyes looking over them all, seeing possibilities in each of his agents. His silver hair and beard, except for the scar running from the left side of his jaw to his left eyebrow, made him stand out like an aristocrat. A politician, though he would frown at that description. Though they'd been married for nearly two decades, he still filled her with his innate power and presence, bringing her to remember those days she'd first met him back to life. Though he was now reaching his early sixties, his physique showed no sign of digress.

But for each day that went Sasa felt as if more and more of Koll was slipping. She knew how much he changed in the heat of battle, she only missed his full attention. It had been so long since they'd been alone for more than an hour. As close as he was, she still missed him.

Koll stepped forward, breaking the circle and gazed deeply into the reflective pool separating them all. "Welcome, my friends. It warms my heart and spirit that our long separation is finally over. Now that you are here, the Force has strengthened us. It has brought us together now, so close to target."

Koll collected himself. "As you have been informed, the Republic responded to our demand by sending a lone group of commandos. It is clear now that the Republic will not stop there. I have been informed by our contractor that a full-scale assault is underway, in the shape of three Star Destroyers. A Force that could easily wipe us from the face of Regana, if it weren't for our hostages." Koll looked around at each of them. "I assure you now, that the approaching Star Destroyers were never out of our calculations. Regana is under our control, of that there is no question. The hostages are quiet as mice, and the Republic's fleet we will be more than able to handle."

Eknath, the powerful master of minds, stepped forth. "How do you propose we counter this threat?"

Koll looked at the Dark Jedi. "Because of our hostages they are unable to simply blast us from space. Since my declaration of occupancy was sent to Coruscant, the whole Galaxy knows we're out here. They'll have to stage a ground assualt, and that is where we'll beat them."

Eknath didn't look convinced. "Three Star Destroyers...not counting what ground vehicles they might bring, its still an army of competetive size. The losses on our side will be substantial."

Koll smiled slyly. "There will be no losses on our side in the ground assault, I assure you."

Raine, the only Jedi in their group, stepped forth. "You have something up your sleeve?"

"Indeed I do, but I want it to be a surprise." Koll started walking around the reflective pool. "You needn't bother yourself with the ground assualt at all."

Eknath was still skeptical. "You've made changes since our last meeting."

"Yes, I have. To spare as many of our soldiers as possible."

Eknath nodded, having been given his answer. But as he looked around their circle, it seemed he had more questions. "What about this prisoner you're keeping?"

Sasa saw how Koll stiffened, his face paling for an instant before he regained control of himself. "A Republic officer, one from their primary attempt at breaching our security." Sasa could feel how her husband fought the urge to look at her. Maybe he knew the surprise he would find there would throw him off his charade. "He is none of your concern. We're merely keeping him for interrogation."

Sasa looked over her shoulder to see her apprentice. Sasa was glad to see her trainee again, his youthful look a source of joy for her. He played the part of the perfect Padawan without err, merely her shadow as they discussed matters at hand. But Sasa had felt it, from the moment she'd walked into the chamber. His sadness that hung so heavily and apparently on his sunken shoulders.

He looked up at her, his eyes glassy and empty, and then returned his gaze to the floor. She wished for some way she could comfort him, her maternal instinct told her to reach out for him, to hug him to her chest and allow him to release those painful emotions that were starting to affect her too. If they hadn't already.

Krych and Junn's relationship had been a great symbol of the unity among all their soldiers, of the loyalty and love they all shared for each other. Krych loved Junn with all his heart, and it pained Sasa to see her apprentice in such turmoil. Though his face revealed nothing but what could be described as teenage dislike, a general discomfort with the rest of the world, his insides roared like a great bonfire. He was in agony, his mind only partially aware of the circumstances around him.

As she looked back to the reflective pool, she noticed Raine glaring at her from across the room. She only then realized how open she'd left herself. Raine's gaze shifted to her apprentice and Sasa wished she could somehow shield her apprentice from the man's stare. The old Jedi looked at her apprentice as if he was looking through him. He was reading Krych's mind.

Raine came out of his probing, his eyes snapping open. Immediately his eyes went to Koll. "What has happened to your lieutenant?"

Sasa stepped forth. "This matter is not - "

Koll silenced her by raising his hand. "Junn...has decided to end her service," he said coldly and bluntly. His powerful gaze fell upon her apprentice, and Sasa could feel Krych staring back at their leader, stirring inside with anger. "Let's make no complications about this. She was injured by one of the intruders. The very one I hold in a cell right now, awaiting his execution."

Without thinking, Krych crossed to stand next to his Master. Krych's anger ran well with the poisoned smile he possessed. His message was clear. He wanted to execute the prisoner. Understanding fully why he wanted that privilege, she also knew that Koll's pride was much too great for that. If anyone was going to kill the clone, they would have to go through Koll first.

Saying a silent prayer for her apprentice, Sasa stepped back behind her apprentice as Koll slowly closed the distance between him and Krych. Krych met Koll's strong glare without flinching. The silence between them could deflect the blast of a Death Star.

But Krych was smart enough to know when he was wrong and finally bowed his head in compliance, accepting his place as the apprentice.

Koll nodded at the boy's submission. "Do not let your heart, as broken as it is, intrude, young one. I hope you will remain loyal to us, though she has chosen other paths."

Sasa had to fight to keep herself from intruding. This was insane. He was preaching Krych on a lesson he needed to practize. He was being selfish. He wanted the clone all to himself. Sasa found herself at a conflict; she wanted to defend Krych and certainly help him through his difficult stage, but Koll was her husband, she couldn't go up against him.

"To stay vigilant, we must remain focused," Koll added to the young man.

Sasa bit her lip, trying to hold back the anger. She would allow Koll his pride now, because she knew how much this meant to him. How long he had waited for the moment when he could go up against his former mentor, prove himself to be better. But once the clone was gone she would surely point this situation out to him. The Sons of Destiny had not gotten this far by lying to each other, by being selfish. They were professionals. Koll reminded them all of that, while Sasa could feel him toying at the prospects of killing the clone all the while.

Krych didn't look up. "I understand," his youthful voice stuttered.

Sasa frowned on the inside. At that moment she felt someone inside her mind. She would have guessed it to be Koll but the sensation was not that of her loving husband. She passed her gaze to Eknath, their most powerful telepath, and his drone Joon, but Eknath was not focusing on her but rather the squabble between Krych and Koll. Joon she felt wasn't even capable of probing minds. No, this was someone else. Someone powerful.

She felt a shiver run down her spine.

Koll finished his lecture and Krych retreated to his place behind her. Sasa nodded sourly to Koll. "He won't dissapoint you."

"Good," Koll said gently. He walked away from them, his boots pacing to stand across from the reflective pool. "It is at times such as these that the very fabric that binds us together mustn't challenged. There can be no room for petty issues."

Master Eknath brought attention immediately to another subject. "What was that skirmish we witnessed upon our arrival?"

Koll's jaw tightened. "Through a Bothan on Coruscant I enlisted the help of a small mercenary group. Crude and weak in discipline, in the absence of their commander, they turned to mutiny. They were in a position to set our timetable back significantly. I ordered their evacuation."

"And their commander?" Eknath asked. "How did he respond?"

Koll shrugged. "I cannot predict his actions. He may feel betrayed, but with what I know of the man I'm sure he will see that it was unavoidable. He's a business man, not a warrior." Their leader smiled. "He was the one who brought us our supply of ysalamiri. I do not wish to hurt him, he's been of great help. It is possible he might think of enlisting. I know I trust him."

"And if he doesn't see it our way?" Sasa asked, wondering seriously at that possibility. Since Koll had chosen to send back most of Jovis' men, it was possible the man would carry a grudge. Put a blaster in the hands of grudge and suddenly you had revenge.

Koll's face was masked with regret. "I will deal with it."

Master Raine, his tired body moving to the pool, spoke. "What about the test-run of the cloning facility?"

Eknath shivered in his cloak. "If we are not able to clone the subject - "

Koll turned on his heel. "The clone is already underway." Koll looked to Eknath. "You must prepare, Master Eknath. Your skills will be invaluable." Using the ysalamiri meant the clone did not produce a disturbance in the Force. Eknath would ensure that did not mean that the cloned body wasn't bereft of the Force, since Eclipos had requested a Force-sensitive host. Eknath was also needed to make the transfer of Eclipos, since no one could transfer their own soul.

Eknath bowed. "I will not fail you."

"Once the transfer is complete, I would like you to be our eyes, Master Eknath. With your exceptional skills as a psychic you can pinpoint an intruder or a breach faster than any security camera. I also want you to add your magic to the hostages, make them even more docile. We can't afford any disruption, just to be safe. I know you can do it."

Eknath was not the kind to blush but Sasa still felt she could spot a change in his teint. Sasa felt something twitching in her stomach, though felt more like keeping it to herself than voicing her concern. Koll must have felt it. His predatory eyes glanced to her and she knew she had no choice but to speak.

"The ysalamiri were brought in late. If the clone madness has not been deflected in time we will have to wait an additional twenty days."

Koll smiled and Sasa felt lava flow through her belly. "Yes. She's right." He darted his eyes to Eknath. "Perhaps it would be best to prepare another cloning as soon as now. The five cylinders are all working."

The Jedi Master Raine nodded. "Provided we agree to terminate it, if the first test goes smoothly."

Koll nodded, fully able to follow Raine's thoughts. There were already too many clones in the world, and despite their need for the technology, none of them approved of the monstrosity itself. "Yes, that would be wisest."

Raine and Eknath looked to each other, both of them agreeing. Eknath smiled wickedly. "I will see to my assignments."

Koll turned his eyes back to Raine, and couldn't help smiling. "Jedi Master Raine; a herd of vhroniks have been delievered to the station. I have already tamed a few of them," his eyes moved to the beast Ragh standing behind Raine, "but with your affinity for handling monsters I believe you to be the most suitable to tame the rest. We need them loyal to us."

The old Jedi bowed humbly. "As always, I will do as you ask, old friend."

The meeting adjourned and Raine left with Eknath close by, their apprentices following them like the obedient subjects they were.

Sasa couldn't help feeling singled out. Only her, Krych and Koll were left in the spherical chamber.

Koll sighed heavily and then turned his eyes to Krych. "You would do well to remember your place and teachings, Krych. Although I consider us family, now is a time I need the loyalty you are reknown for. Go."

Krych nodded carefully, bowing to them both before leaving them to be alone in the spherical chamber. She allowed him to see the weariness in her eyes, allowed him to know she was not happy about the way he'd treated Krych.

"Don't bother, my love. I sensed it." He turned away and supported himself against the edge of the reflective pool. "I'm sorry."

She kept her eyes on the floor. "What do you think you've achieved, Koll? How do you ever expect him to follow you if he finds out how you've deceived him? How you've taken from him his rightful revenge. Junn is..._was _his lover."

Koll sighed. "I know." He looked over his shoulder at her. "I don't want you as an enemy, Sasa," using her name gave him leverage, "you and I are the foundation of it all." Koll swallowed hard. "Please don't hold it against me."

Sasa felt his pain. "Of course I don't. I just want this to be over. Personal feelings have no place in what we're doing. Once the clone is - " Sasa folded her hands in front of her, felt the sweat claming them together. "Once he's dead, we can continue as planned."

Koll declined his head. "It won't be long."

Forcing a faux smile she turned on her heel and ascended the stairs. She reached the top of the stairs and turned to see Koll staring at her by the pool. He gave her the saddest look she'd ever seen from him. That of a fragile man.

His voice was low, but she heard each word as clearly as if he'd whispered them in her ear. "You…are my everything, my love. I throw all my trust at you, don't throw it back in my face."

Saying nothing she left the chamber, in search of wherever Krych had gone to deal with his broken heart, feeling Koll's words hit the very center of her heart, and feeling a pain worse than what Krych was going through. She felt certain death and despair in the future, but the only thing that really bothered her was that she couldn't discern whose death.


	6. Destiny's End

Though it felt like days since Kayupa and Koll had come to visit him, it came as no surprise to him when Sasa finally came to see him on her own. Skar managed to feel some sense of hope as she elegantly moved through the chamber, a careful nature in her moves, a hope he at last could talk to her alone. He could see something undecided in her eyes, and while he might exploit it for a weakness that would get him free, he also hoped there was a part of her that saw him as who he wanted to be.

She came walking towards him, dressed in a thick robe and with sleep in the corners of her eyes. Although Skar had no memory of her facial expressions other than the Holocron, he recognized tired and depressed emotions on her face. Paying no attention to Sonnet, she offered him a flask filled with pure water inside.

Holding it up to his lips, he sipped as much as he could hold in his mouth, then swallowed the water, feeling its cool composure running through his body, and took another sip. They didn't speak to each other, even when she gently wiped her sleeve over his face, clearing away the day old sweat from his brows. He saw edges of Kjoil tattoos within the sleeves on her arms, the very same that covered his sore arms. For a moment he could almost smile, almost forget the situation wasn't the exact opposite of what he'd always envisioned of him being with his mother.

He tried to lock eyes with her, trying to make her look into his eyes. "Free me…."

Her face remained the same as she cleaned away the last of the dirt. "This…is not over yet." She looked down at the floor, a brief smile moved over her lips and she turned her head, almost as if she was afraid he might see it. "I don't even…know what to call you."

Skar's jaw quivered. "I'm …Skar."

She didn't look back up. "That's your truth."

Skar turned his face away, torn and bitter with anguish. "It's the fact I've lived with and tried to uphold all my life, I'm not going to give that up now."

She hugged herself and summoned the courage to look into his eyes for the first time, almost studying him as if he were an object rather than a living being. "Admirable. But also gullible. You are not my son, and you are not my brother. You exist somewhere in-between."

Skar sighed. "You don't know what it's like."

"No," she shrugged. "I suspect I would cling on as much as I could to who I thought I was. Like you're doing - "

"Then stop your holiness!" Skar barked.

Her feet moved her back a step at his outburst, a fear stirring in her, but also some kind of recognition. There was something she recognized in him. "I don't see why you can't accept the truth, anything else is folly. This is the way it is."

Skar pulled at his restraints but it solved nothing. He was torn between his desire to make her see who he was, to stop this nonsense, and the desire to choke her for her stubbornness. Why couldn't she see it? Why was she doing this? Why was Koll? "I've lived my entire life as Skar Kjoil, that's all I know I am," Skar's voice cracked, "I'm the boy that stared at your image at night, listened to what I thought were your last words, and saw a mother. I read about Koll Riokon and saw a father. What I found in those glimpses, they were my family."

Her face turned compassionate for a second, but then it was gone again. Her stony face filled with animosity and a slight pity. But it was the kind of pity you showed people who were insane, it wasn't real compassion. It was just sad. "They too are no more," she said sharply, "even me and Koll are not the same. We love each other, sharing deeply the wish to revenge what was done to our son."

Skar looked up at her. "Then why haven't you killed me yet?"

She smiled briefly, much too briefly. "Koll may run things here, but I'm his wife. I have a say."

Skar shook his head. "That's not an answer."

She hugged herself again, her face turning towards the floor. "I've come to…I look at you and see my brother's face. I hear your voice, and I hear my brother's voice. But when I listen to what's behind the words and see what's behind the eyes, its another person. Its a man who's lived as my son all his life." She looked into his eyes, and her hands fell to her sides. When she spoke her voice was vulnurable. "If you turn to our side, we can be a family. I promise."

Skar turned his face away. "Turn to your side?" Skar smiled mentally, not because he wanted to take that offer, but it was proof that she did feel something for him. She did see who he was.

"If you will help us, join our army."

"No," Skar snorted. "I won't betray - "

"I'm giving you a chance to have a family," she stated firmly.

Skar shook his head. "What you're talking about…isn't a family."

"Its the only option I will give you."

Skar sniffled. "I don't suppose Koll knows you're offering me this." Skar wanted more than anything to be with her, but not like that. He wanted her to accept that he was her son, he wanted to hear her call him son, he wanted her to show him the love he'd been denied all his life. He wanted to make her proud. "No thanks."

"There will be no second chances. This is your only chance at being with us."

Skar leaned his face as close to her as he could. "Not until you admit…who I really am."

She shivered. "You - are a scarred memory of a man whose tyranny does not translate into words. A man who betrayed his family, his friends, and his people for a dead woman. You have no mother, and no father."

Skar pulled his face back. "I know…who I am."

"You know a lie." There was a look of exhaustion on her face. "You would rather hold onto your pride than have a family?" she asked, but the way she said it implied no answer was needed. "This is getting you nowhere."

Skar blinked. "Why are you really here?"

She ran her palm across her face, stopping it above her brows, her tired eyes looking at something he couldn't see. Thinking something he couldn't read. And when she looked at him, there was a longing on her face. "For a second, for argument's sake, imagine that what you've been told is the truth…and tell me about my son, the one you knew as Kayupa. Tell me, even the bad things."

Skar felt a tinge of jealousy, like he wasn't his mother's favorite. That she didn't want to hear about what he'd been doing. Her and Koll were obsessed with the dead in a way that made him cringe, a feeling of sickness surrounded them both. Skar sighed. "There weren't any. He was a strong man. Someone I would have been proud to be." Skar shuddered to think of him. "Someone I take pride in calling my friend."

She frowned. "But you wanted to kill him?"

Skar shrugged. "There was never any real hate between us. He was…looking for a way out. I didn't want to kill him. I felt pity for him. He deserved to be free. He'd been through so much…and now to think that he might not have been the mistake he thought he was, its sad to think he died because of a lie. One of many reasons why I can't believe what you're telling me. Kayupa was a great man, but he's dead now. It would be terrible to think he died for nothing."

Sasa trembled, her face pale and flinching. "My son…he would have made me proud. Its a shame what happened but in the end you were more likely to succeed than he was. He wasn't the kind of man who would go to Draori and try to free the hostages. You did that. You defeated the other Epigones. Your genetic code might not be what you hoped for, but they don't tie you to anything."

Skar sighed. "It's hard…to still feel any shred of faith in myself. I was meant to lead trouble away from Kayupa and instead I brought it right to him."

Sasa shook her head. "He came to see you, and you both felt the connection."

"If I'd known then, I would never have gone," Skar retorted bitterly.

Sasa shook her head and when she spoke, her voice and words were light as air, almost soft and gentle in his ears. "No, it was your destiny, not his; in the end you were the better Jedi." At last she smiled, a true and honest smile aimed right at him. "There were so many nights, when I would hear about your exploits from our spies in the New Republic. When you joined the New Republic I was overwhelmed with pride. And sometimes I was even able to deceive myself. I pretended you really were my son. Those moments, though brief and tainted with deception, were the warmest I've known in a long time." Her face shifted, a tightness pulling at the skin around her eyes. "I should have seen it long ago, because I've seen it all before. The hysteria, the panic, the pride, the strength. Only one Jedi has ever had so much…determination." She looked up at him, but the warmth was gone. "My brother wandered in the public eye all his life."

"He lived an illuminated life. Not much privacy."

She laughed heartily. "My brother, he didn't want privacy. He wanted the public's eyes on him at all times, he wanted the fame, the reputation, the popularity. He wanted it because he believed he could control everything if enough people knew him. That's how he got inside the Senate chamber, and how he managed to protect our home planet."

Skar remembered the details. "That's how he gained enough funds to build the Jentarana. He manipulated it all with Chancellor Palpatine, right from the beginning. When did he turn?"

Sasa sniggered. "Nobody knows. There is proof that maybe Skind was the initial would-be ruler of the Republic. Him and Palpatine worked side by side. Skind chose not to go for the leadership because he wanted Selia more than power. In retrospect she saved the Galaxy from someone perhaps even more evil than Palpatine. She saved them…from you." Her right hand came out from inside the robe she was wrapped in and held out a smooth cylinder object. Her fingers moved across its surface delicately, lost in her own memories.

Skar's eyes widened. His lightsaber. A light of hope illuminated his weary mind.

"It looks like my brother's," she muttered, "although you didn't apply the family tree. Why is that?"

Skar couldn't take his eyes off the weapon and wished he could touch the Force for just a second so he could escape. But it was pointless. The Force was still too far out of his reach. He felt like a novice again, nothing but an apprentice, still struggling to learn the basics of training. Skar sighed. "I…I didn't want to be reminded of the past every time I used it. Past is prologue."

She turned the handgrip over in her hands. "Your skills are impressive."

Skar smirked, his eyes still fixed on the weapon in her hands. "Its self-taught."

"Then you're really good." She shook the lightsaber in her hand one last time as if testing its weight before concealing it beneath the robe again. "Too bad its not going to help you this time."

Skar frowned. He wasn't dead yet. "Tell me about Koll's plan. What are his intentions?"

She tilted her head. "You honestly think I'd tell you?"

Skar tried to smile his most charmingly. "Of course. You're a good guy."

She softened inside, he could tell that much, gentle compliments like that, even one as crude, were rare to her. "What makes you say that?"

Skar kept his smile. "Your eyes."

"My eyes?"

"They're not the eyes of a killer."

Some of the anger came back into her stare. "No, they're the eyes of a woman who's trying to rectify a wrong."

Skar shook his head. He didn't believe her. "Eyes are the mirrors of the soul. I see compassion in yours."

She took a step closer to him, her glare and her voice those of a hunter. "What you see in my eyes, is the shattered remains of a mother's love for her son."

Skar nodded. And truth slowly came to him, and for once it was a warm sensation. "It was you, wasn't it?"

She looked away.

"You sent the datacard, the one that got me out here?"

She stared at nothing. "I did," her voice broke, "I wanted to be sure. Koll doesn't know. Whether you were my son or my brother...I still wanted to look one of you in the eyes again. Its been so long since I felt like I was part of a family."

Skar wanted to hold her, comfort her. "You've got me."

She stirred. "You're not my son."

"That's not what you feel inside."

"How would you know?"

Skar closed his eyes and took a deep breath, channeling himself not through the Force, but his own strength. "I can see through you, and I see it. You can hide it from Koll but sooner or later you'll have to stand up for what you want. With Koll there is no future, with me there is a family."

She laughed. "You still don't get it, do you? Its you who is hiding, its you who'll have to face facts sooner or later. And you are the one with no future."

Skar allowed the insult to flow through him, but without the Force he found it hard to keep his vigilance and his focus. "I've accepted the possibility, but I'm still not convinced."

She shrugged. "Then there's really nothing more I can do for you. You're only prolonging the inevitable-"

"Next time you see Koll," he said before she could finish, "look into his eyes. Look into his soul and tell me what you see. Is there any hope of happiness or love left for you in those eyes?"

Her hands turned into hardened fists and her lips became a feral snarl. "How dare you."

"Just look," he said gently. "And you'll see what I mean."

Silencing her own fury she gave him one last hateful frown before turning on her heel and headed for the door.

"Mother," it broke Skar's heart to say it, "you can still make things right."

"All that matters to me, is family, as fragile as it is," she stopped at the door, but didn't turn around to look at him. "And you are not my family."

"I'm the only real family you have!" Skar cried.

"Well," she whispered, "that ain't much."

Skar wrestled against his restraints. "Look at me, tell me I'm not your son. Look beyond my face, my words, and confess…you love me."

She nodded slowly. "I do. I love the men you're supposed to be." She focused on his tattoos. "I love seeing my brother again, parts of me have missed him. Parts of me have regretted dearly the events that brought me here. But it's past now, and I can't undo it. And yet, you are my past...and you will soon be undone."

Skar coiled his hands into fists. "Listen to me! Koll's not stable. I don't know what he has planned, but I know I have to stop him. I've seen that kind of madness before. In Kayupa. They're both just as twisted. Their personalities can't take defeat because they set up ideals for themselves that they can't reach. Its that weakness I can use."

Sasa took a step back, turned and looked at him with a frosty smile on her lips. "You talk about killing my husband - like I wouldn't stop you."

Skar shuddered. "Reach inwards, mother. Find the part of you that was a Jedi once, and tell me what he's doing isn't wrong. Tell me, as a Jedi, you don't want to stop him just as much as I do."

Sasa shook her head. "I can't kill him."

"Then you must set me free!" Skar pleaded.

Sasa smiled carefully, and her eyes showed some illumination, as if she'd finally been given the proof, the reason she had come to see him. "For a second there I thought I had a son. Until you started talking about Koll." She tightened her jaw. "Now, I hear you brother. I hear the evil, the day you took your own life. The man that tried to turn me against Koll, for the glory of the Kjoil. But it wasn't for their glory, was it? It was for the Empire, it was the Emperor. Your sick wish to be the most powerful Jedi. You just wanted me as a tool, you didn't care that I was your sister, to you I was just another asset. An asset you could use to get what you wanted."

Though he wanted to, Skar had nothing to say. He knew she knew, deep down inside, how wrong she was.

"My son will be revenged. And the Republic will die for the lies they inflicted upon him. And soon, my brother will die, once and for all." She leaned in close. "The world never needed a Skind Kjoil in the first place. And soon they will all perish. The real one, the clone, and my poor son, who was misled by the very people you're trying to protect." Her face dimmed slowly. "You will not stop us."

Skar locked on her eyes, admitting to himself that he'd lost the chance of turning her to his side. And since that chance was gone, there were very little options open. "No...maybe you're right." He smiled coldly. "So I'll just have to kill you."

Sasa was unable to retort, if she even had one ready, as the doors to the dungeon opened. Skar looked over Sasa's shoulder to see someone new, a tall thin aged humanoid, a gray-skinned man with odd looking black markings across his body, dressed in a ragged cloak. The markings on his flesh seemed to suggest he'd been beaten by an electric whip. One espicially gruesome scar ran from the right side of jaw up and across his face before ending at the back of his head. He stepped through the doorway, sealing it behind him, and stared at them both with eyes glowing red.

Sasa glanced briefly over her shoulder at the man, clearly surprised and a bit anxious about the man's entry. "Prophet."

The tall man nodded, looked down at Sonnet, smiled once and then looked back up, locking his devil eyes upon Skar. "What a touching display."

Sasa turned to face the man fully. "What are you doing here?"

Prophet, as he was called, paid Sasa no attention and kept his gaze upon Skar. Skar could almost see devious thinking going on behind those red eyes, and when the man smiled coldly there was no questioning it. "I heard we were entertaining guests. I came to see if the rumors were accurate."

Sasa was surprised. "Rumors?"

Prophet held out his hands in a grandiose gesture. "The clone of Skind Kjoil. Who could miss up on such an..._oppertunity_?"

Skar didn't want to know what the man meant by 'oppertunity'.

"Does Koll know you're here?" Sasa asked.

The man raised his eyebrows. "Does Koll know _you're _here?"

Sasa took a step to her side, standing fully between Skar and Prophet. "If you're not here by order, I can easily give you one to leave."

Prophet snickered at her threat. "The lovely wife has teeth, I see." His eyes became slits. "But I wonder if she dares to bite."

"I know why you're here." Sasa stood her ground. "You don't need to do this, Eknath."

_Eknath_, Skar noted the name.

"I do," he whispered softly, "you and I both know."

Sasa shook her head. "Koll won't - ".

"I'm doing it _for _him."

She looked so powerless standing there. "But why?"

Eknath turned his eyes back to Skar. "You know why."

"There must be other ways," Sasa pleaded.

Skar looked back and forth between them. What were they talking about?

"We're running short on time, Sasa. I knew the moment I set foot inside this station. It must be done. For the good of us all."

Sasa's voice sounded heartbroken. "But if...we can still talk to Koll - "

"No," Eknath said coldly, "you know him better than that."

Sasa glanced over her shoulder at Skar briefly and then back at Eknath. "I think I may have found another way." She closed her eyes. "Read my mind."

Eknath's face was puzzled, but his gaze fell upon Sasa with such intensity Skar almost felt like he was being blinded by an oncoming light. The seance lasted several seconds before Eknath tore his gaze off Sasa again.

"Its dangerous, Sasa."

"You know it can be done," she said confidently. "I'll take responsibility."

Skar was starting to feel fed up, sick of being a spectator. "If you're here to kill me, then get it over with!"

Eknath looked over at him, a look of amusement on his face. "Kill?" He chuckled madly. "Not quite."

Sasa nodded to Eknath, reached inside her robe again and pulled out Skar's lightsaber. She gave it one last reminiscent stare and then handed it to Eknath. Skar didn't understand why, but he was distracted when she looked back over her shoulder and gave him one last sad gaze. Seconds later she had left the room.

Skar concentrated on Eknath. "Then why are you here?"

Eknath held out his hands, looking very pleased with himself. "I am here to redefine torture."

Skar tensed up, a fear passing over him.

Eknath started approaching. "I am Prophet, but as you may have just heard, my real name is Eknath."

Skar tried moving himself backwards but only managed to push himself flatter against the droid holding him. "You didn't answer my question."

He started circling Skar, hands inside his robe as he talked, his eyes towards the floor. "I am one of the Jedi that fled from the Republic during the war, along with Riokon. Once, many years ago, I was a member of the Jedi Council, mentored by Master Yoda himself. But like Riokon, I grew tired and wary of the Republic's way, and began to understand the truth. I've helped him build this army over the last decades," his voice turned poisonous, "on many occasions I've heard him rant on about Skind Kjoil, and his betrayal. I also heard about the death of his son. I know the stories so well you might think I was actually part of them. But they are just memories. And to be honest with you, I am growing tired of a man who can't stop talking about the past, while claiming he wants to save the future."

Skar didn't understand. "You're - "

"Don't get me wrong; I want to save this Galaxy as much as he does, but I know Koll better than he perhaps knows himself."

Skar remembered the little mind-reading Ekath had performed on Sasa. "You're a telepath."

"Any Jedi is, esentially, but I am particularly gifted at it. There's not a mind or will I haven't been able to bend in all my years. Koll's mind is a troubled one, but there is still a basis for a power I need to acheive my goals."

Skar couldn't help but feel this Eknath only sounded like he was using Koll and the army for his own ends. "_Your _goals?"

The man ended his circle, standing before Skar. "To see this Galaxy restored, just like the rest."

Skar still didn't get it. "What does that mean?"

"It means Koll is focusing on you, at the moment, prolonging your execution for his own sick pleasure. I came down here to kill you, so he can focus on the mission again, as well as ending this unbalance your every existence has placed upon the Force. To create equilibrium between dark and light."

Skar straightened up. "Then get it over with."

Eknath shook his head. "Not yet," he looked over at Sonnet. "You see, as Sasa just pointed out to me, there's another way. A dangerous one, perhaps. But," his red eyes glistened, "one with a very favorable outcome."

Skar's fear and worry started to build. "And you're going to tell me, right?"

Eknath grinned. "No, not at all. But I do wish to confer with you, in your final moments."

He didn't understand. "Confer?"

Eknath nodded, his face showing a slight vulnurability. His eyes dimmed. "I know all about you, Kjoil. I know about Kayupa, the Jentarana, your dreams, Master Bo-Hi, even the sickness that's moving through your body."

Skar's head came up. The sickness? Did he mean the attacks he'd been having. "Sickness?"

"Yes, it is a constructed part of your birthright. Clones are given a limited lifespan, they only live for a handful of decades, before their bodies shut down and die." Eknath smiled cruely. "You're dying, my friend. Your time in this world is almost up."

Skar suppressed his fear, he'd been facing death the last week. And although the knowledge shocked him he refused to let it show.

Eknath chuckled. "You can't hide anything from me, I told you. I know all about you," his eyes became slits, "even about this woman...Shinran."

The name sent a jolt of lightning through his very spirit. The pain of her memory was weakening him and he couldn't allow that, he had to stay strong. "Yeah, so?"

Eknath's head tilted. "You should know I don't need to read your mind, your thoughts and feelings are as clear to me as the smell of your blood on the floor. You can't hide anything from me."

Skar wanted to fight, but he began to understand it was pointless. Without the Force he was clay in Eknath's hands.

Eknath nodded, clearly sensing Skar's internal surrender. "I also know about her carriage, which, in a way, makes me consider Sasa's plan even further."

"What?"

Eknath's head came up. "It makes the plan...possible, and lowers the risk."

Skar was infuriated. "What are you talking about? What does Shinran have to do with anything!"

The telepath smirked. "You lack the knowledge, but it is not your own failing. It is the failure of those who instructed you. The weakest of the weak, upon which you bestow so much love and reverence."

Skar fought against his restraints. "Tell me what you're talking about!"

Eknath shook his head. "It's not important that you know. You should find comfort in the fact that you'll be seeing her and your son soon enough. But I am not interested in your woman, or your dead son. All I am interested in is your heritage." He stepped forward, his hand touching Skar's shoulder. "Kjoil strength."

Skar felt nauseous, a wave of sickness passed over him. He could feel Eknath now, tampering with his mind, playing through his memories like a hologram.

Eknath had read his mind again. "Kayupa was right; you haven't acheived your full potential yet, and without the Force you never will."

Skar's defenses, as they were, caved completely. He could feel oblivion starting to suck him down, darkness around the edges of his vision. A great hollow feeling inside him that swallowed everything. Eknath's snake-like voice was all he could latch on to.

"The truth I embrace, as Koll and the others, is the foundamental factor in your heritage. You see, I was there. I was there the day the Kjoil came into our lives, the day a brighter race was brought out of the shadows. A powerful race, the most powerful even. None spoke about it, no one dared, but there were mutters in the corners of the Jedi Temple. Jealousy, disbelief, repulsion."

Skar felt himself wilt away in Eknath's words.

"Skind Kjoil rose beyond the boundaries of any Jedi, he mocked and ridiculed everything the Jedi took for granted. They believed they were the pinnacle, the very will of the Force, it's greatest embodiment. That they were the good and anyone following the Dark Side was evil," his voice took on a softer edge, "and then Kjoil entered the picture, able to surpass their Jedi powers, able to use the Dark Side if they willed without consequences. No one could hear it, but the resentment and the confusion resonated through the Jedi Temple, like a subtle earthquake, for years."

Skar was halfway lost, drifting on waves of words and ancient stories, awake only because the images that pounded his brain through his own imagination. Spiteful people in the shadows, talking about his uncle, his family, his race. And slowly it occurred to him what Eknath was trying to say, the message he'd missed all those years.

That single fact, that never pondered possibility, slowly brought him back to the surface.

His voice was breaking, dry and coarse. "We were...the real - "

"Exactly!" Eknath pulled back from his mind probe, violently, detaching himself from Skar's thoughts faster than was healthy for anyone being examined by the Force. "The Kjoil are the strongest, the brightest, how are we to believe anything other than that they were the real embodiment of the Force? Jedi, Sith; they were just shadows of you," he held out his palm, "shadows of what the Force originally imagined. And the Force does have a will, it is almost as sentient as those who enforce it. It does create circumstances, oppertunities, fated accidents, that acheive it's design, through it's followers."

Skar felt exhausted, weary from Eknath's mind control. "The Kjoil...they were the real sons of destiny."

Eknath smiled full of delight. "The very hands of fate."

Skar sought inwards, tried to understand what it meant. On the grander scale it meant that...what did it mean? That the Jedi were wrong? No, not wrong, just misled, unaware. But if the Kjoil really were the true governors of the Force, why had the Force held them a secret? The Kjoil were oblivious to the world for many generations until that day, the day of the Gathering, when the Kjoil reached out to the Jedi and made them aware of their existence.

Eknath was almost snickering with glee. "You see it, don't you? The Gathering. The Kjoil _felt _they were needed, the Force _told _them they were needed. Until then the Kjoil were safely hidden away, until the Force understood that their presence was needed in galactic affairs."

Skar felt like he was choking on truth, with no way to cough it out of his lungs. "But why? Compared to years later the Republic was in no great distress. Why not later? And why were only five of them taught Jedi techniques? Why not all of them? If the Force has a will why did the Force let Skind create the Jentarana when it served no real - "

Eknath held up a finger to silence him. "You misunderstand. There are no predestined events, no great plan...there is merely _an idea_."

Skar frowned. "An idea?"

"The Force is not an all-knowing entity, it is a sentient will in all living things, an energy created by life. But the Force cannot predict or see the future. The Kjoil were brought out of hiding at that particular moment in time for reasons and motives we cannot guess at. And no matter how you regard the Force, whatever perspective serves you best, make no mistake; the Kjoil are it's strongest, most connected myrmidons."

Skar shook his head. "So what? It doesn't matter."

Eknath's red eyes flashed. "Really?"

"Yeah."

The telepath reached inside his cloak slowly and retrived the lightsaber that Sasa had given him. Skar's very own. The sight of it blossomed hope inside of him, his every sense and instinct ready to pounce on a chance to be free. He felt his body tense up, his spirit rising.

Eknath tapped the hilt against an open palm, seemingly fascinated by the blunt sound. "I used to carry one of these...back in the days of the Republic. I used to slay my enemies with a swift stroke," the green blade flashed into life in his hand, humming intensely, "used it to defend those in danger, those protected by the Republic, under the missions I was given by the council. At least...that was what I was trained to think, to believe," he swirled the handle in his hand, slowly, careful of the blade, "that was the lie stuffed down my throat."

Skar's eyes fixated on the blade. "Lie?"

Eknath straighted out his right arm, sighting Skar's face down the length and tip of the blade. His voice was soft, reminiscent. "I was young then, a hopeful youth that wanted to be a hero, who wanted to save the world. I believed the myths and the stories, I gained the powers and I believed to understand the Force and my place in life." He powered down the lightsaber and the blade slowly faded back into its hilt. "I truly believed that we were doing the Force's will, that we were the avatars of light in this world."

Skar could feel himself being coaxed by the man, genuinely wanting to hear what he had to share. Eknath seemed a wise man, a powerful acolyte, but one burdened with the many ways life could be scrutined. "And now?"

Eknath cradled the hilt in his hands. "I know now that the Force speaks differently to us all, that there was no universal will that _all _Jedi were meant to follow. The Force has hopes and designs for all of us, it knows us all better than we know ourselves. The Sith understood this, at least, and used it to further their own wills. But the Jedi," his face crumpled with pity and regret, "we were too damned arrogant. Too sure of ourselves. Too lost trying to do good."

His eyes came up fast, staring into Skar's. "But you...the Kjoil...you knew. You understood. The world is not black or white, and whatever darkness we embrace or face comes not from a Dark Side but from inside of us. The Jedi who fell to the Dark Side, did not do so because they weren't strong; they fell because they simply didn't understand what the Force really was, because it was never theirs to begin with. The Force was too much power for someone like them, the power too much for so ignorant and arrogant beings. The Kjoil should have..." his words stopped coming, his face filling with anger.

Skar started to understand. "We should have been in their place, we could have stopped the Sith."

Eknath grinned madly. "Yes, that would have been a better fate. Sith and those fallen to the Dark Side are not the same. The Sith power is different. But there is a greater power than them. Kjoil genetics hold the highest number of midiclorians ever recorded in Jedi history. They are the true essence of it's power, the strongest of it's children. We, Sith and Jedi, are just shadows compared. Kjoil are the true wielders of the Force, anything else is just pretend. So you see, it does indeed matter."

Skar wasn't entirely convinced. "But the Kjoil are no better. Our weakness is our passion. It corrupts us too easily."

Eknath shook his head. "You're thinking of Skind. While it is true he turned to Sith, remember he did not do so by accident; he did it chasing the means to an end."

Skar understood that too well. "Access to the Sith afterlife."

Eknath nodded. "Which I sincerely doubt is different from any other afterlife, but Skind was an impatient youth, too manipulated by Jedi dogmas. Though he was the strongest of them all, they buried him with their rules and restrictions. Instructed rightfully he would have found a way to reach Selia in the afterlife on his own. Same thing happened to the rest of the Epigones...the ones you slew on Draori, they suffered the same abuse and lies."

Skar thought silently for a moment. "Maybe you're right...as you said, it's all perspective."

Eknath laughed warmly, clearly amused by Skar's comprihention. "Indeed it is. However, it is my truth."

Skar remembered slowly that Eknath was here to kill him. "But why tell me all this?"

The man's red eyes flared with evil, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Because in all your thinking, all your puzzling back and forth, you opened up a weakness in your mind. Lost inside your head and memories, you forgot the outside world that still exists, and I used it to get what I wanted."

Skar's body tightened. "What?"

Those red eyes burned in Eknath's face, his voice like salt in a wound. "Don't worry...I'll take good care of them."

Skar blinked. "Who? Who will you - " The truth revealed itself in a blinding flash before Skar's inner eye and sent tremors through his body. Hundreds of hopeful eyes looking back at him, smiling couragously for the first time in a long time. His family, his people.

The Kjoil refugees.

Skar fell into rage instantly and tore at the restraints with all his anger. "No! You leave them alone!" His face turned red in hatred and words fought their way through clenched teeth. "If you touch them, I'll rip out your black soul! _I'll kill you! You hear me! I'll rip you to pieces!_"

Eknath chuckled, unafraid. "Small words coming from a restrained prisoner, bereft of the Force." He smiled grimly. "However, speaking of ripping out souls..." He let the words trail off and turned to face Sonnet on the floor, bowed his head and closed his eyes.

What was he doing? Were they communicating?

The chamber started to close in around Skar, and he knew whatever he had to do to escape would have to be done soon. Skar's eyes examined every corner of the room, every wall, floor and ceiling, even Sonnet, who still perplexed him with his powers, every tiny detail for something, anything.

"You won't find anything, and even if you did I would know." Eknath turned his face slightly to the side, keeping his eyes closed. "Sonnet is timeless, older than you and me combined. Though he looks young, don't be fooled. He's maintaining his outside appearance, like the one he's chosen for the time being, using the Force. He has no real physical form, he is an extension of the Force."

Skar kept searching, not ready to succomb to his fate. "Extension?"

"Darth Vader was once a boy called Anakin Skywalker. Skywalker had no father, he was concieved by the midiclorians. Sonnet's origin is remarkably similiar though he never really existed in a tangible form. He's not really alive, he's a..." Eknath looked for the right words. "I can't even describe it, the truth that bore him into this world. I don't think there's a word for it. He _is _the Dark Side, a physical presence of its will. His power is not determined by training of experience, he has access to the Dark Side in way I can only admire. He doesn't need to call upon it, you see? He is the Dark Side, its very will in an almost physical presence. But since I don't believe the Force really has sides I am forced to believe that Sonnet is a last desperate attempt from the Force to acheive some goal.

Skar found it hard to believe. "You said timeless?"

"Yes, he is as old as the Force itself, as evil as they come." Eknath opened his eyes slightly to look upon Sonnet crouched at his feet. "But all beings are born neither true evil nor true good. Its our society, our culture, that affects us in many ways that makes us grow more benevolent or more malicious. The concepts of free will and the ability to choose who we will become, has become our guiding beacons when we feel we're slipping too much into darkness."

Skar said nothing, He wanted to run, run far away, run from words and faces and facts that he never wanted to see or hear again.

"If free will is never explained to us, of if we lack the means to demonstrate it, we become victims of life's lottery of random, and meaningless, events. Its our faith that saves us, our belief that we can choose our own destiny. Its the only hope we have. But what if we lost that faith? What if we're convinced or proven that free will is merely a dream?"

Filled with grief Skar still manged to think it through, starting to lose hope in finding a way to free himself. "We lose ourselves."

Eknath nodded. "We fall at the mercy something beyond our control, beyond our understanding. We believe nothing matters then, and if nothing matters…what do we have left? We're always believed, hoped, that existence mattered. That our fears and efforts would pay off eventually. That life wouldn't just turn out to be as ridiculous and cruel as we feared. Our sanity rests at this principal, its what keeps us together, motivating us to keep going, even when things seem hopeless. If even the forces of destiny are proven a lie, an illusion, there's no reason to do anything. Some people call it liberating, they believe it to be the ultimate freedom, to let that which does not matter slip away, leaving us uncaring about anything. Others can't cope with it."

Skar looked at him. "What happens to them?"

"They become you," Eknath said bluntly, "shattered on the inside, clinging to the only things they know to be real. Their abilities."

Skar knew that to be true; on Soliton he'd lost faith in all he believed in and it was his will to fight, to kill even, that had kept him going. Kept him wanting to face Kayupa, to kill the thing that had stolen away his ideals and faith with not too subtle actions. And once again he found himself lost, but without a way to fight, without a way to even choose to fight.

Eknath nodded to himself. "You understand." The man turned away from Sonnet and turned his full attention to Skar. His right hand raised slowly and he spread his fingers apart. "Now...it's time to die. Try not to make a mess as you leave."

Eknath's probing was not a subtle connection of minds, it was an in-your-face fist that instanly weakened him of all physical strength before unfolding its claws and clutching his mind inside. And he cried out for help by reflex, wanting anyone to hear him.

Eknath's mindmeld was an engrossing cloud that dimmed all light around him, barred his thoughts from any refuge. He fought physically against it as much as he could, tossing in his fixed position but achieving nothing, the droid's restraints were too powerful, but it was all he could do to distract himself from the growing darkness floating over his mind's eye.

His thoughts drew inwards and he closed his eyes to stop himself from seeing Eknath's sickening grin as he broke him. But he found no safety behind closed eyelids, he felt like he was suffocating, drowning. And he could almost see the other side of the imaginable water he was fighting against, but couldn't reach it. His mind was swimming, fighting against Eknath's entry, but getting nowhere. Every time he felt like he was just about to break the surface, darkness grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him back down.

He could feel the Force around him, but he couldn't touch or bend it. It was a one way connection, orchestrated by Eknath. He could remember using the Force, the way its powers would course through his body, filling him with its light, a beautiful warm light which he could channel into his own wishes. He could remember it all, but he couldn't grasp control of it anymore. It was there, on the other side of the water's surface

It occured to him slowly that the veil he was fighting to break had stars behind it, and as he turned eyes away from what laid before him he found the same stars all around him. He was the center of the universe, and all the twinkling stars around him were millions of miles away.

He was plunging towards something, a darkness amidst those faint lights, the darkness that Eknath was slowly but efficiently forcing over his mind. The procedure was breaking him, and he knew that was what Eknath wanted, but he had no way of fighting it. If he'd had control of the Force he might've been able, but not like this. Slowly he began to see other things among the stars, images and memories he wasn't sure were his. Voices that spoke to him, but he couldn't hear them fully.

"Hmm. You're stronger than I thought," he could hear Eknath's voice far away, a distant echo, "I may need to call upon some help here."

And then, a face.

Sonnet's face was there, between the small lights, staring back at him coldly.

Coming closer.

Coming straight at him.

Skar could feel Sonnet's powerful presence barging through, charging at him without hesitation, breaking his defenses one by one, slowly but surely acheving his goal of leaving him completely open. Skar knew there was no escaping it, but it dawned on him that if he couldn't prevent it, maybe he could use it. And so, instead of holding back, he opened himself fully. Sonnet flooded through him, filling spaces of his mind with his own presence and rapidly filling every corner of his mind, he could feel himself wilting away, the light inside him dimming more and more as Sonnet's ravenous spirit began to take control.

But as he felt himself becoming more and more Sonnet, at one point they were almost one with equal amounts of control, and Skar accepted himself becoming part of Sonnet.

Because Sonnet still had access to the Force.

Skar grasped it, tore it through the darkness around him and allowed it to fill every space inside himself that he could spare. And in the far of it all he could hear Sonnet screaming out in terror. Eknath's probe stopped instantly, a wave of surprise replacing it. And Skar's soul was reforged, full of the light of the Force.

He opened his eyes to see Eknath staring back at him with wide eyes. "Its impossible!" the telepath cried as he backed away from him.

Skar channeled the Force through him, and sent out a force-wave that tore the droid from his back, sending it twirling against the wall behind them, exploding instantly. Skar dropped to the floor, his body beaten and weak, but the Force flooding into him replaced any fatique. The Force wave had knocked Eknath up against the wall as well, but the telepath was still concious, staring back at him with eyes full of fear.

Sonnet was gone from the room, nothing but wall and floor where he'd sat before the probing. But Sonnet's dying scream still echoed through the corners of his mind, the fear and anger washing through him, filling his body and soul. And Skar tapped into his anger and his hate full-fledged, unafraid and uncaring for the dangers in doing so. He didn't shy away from the anger, infact inside it he found a bountiful reserve of power. Electrical surges began fluttering around his limbs, dancing across the blood-soaked floor, sputtering with energy.

The Dark Side.

And then he heard it, the door opening before him. The delightful sound of soldiers rushing into the room, getting ready to attack him. Skar faced them head on, charging at them before they could get the drop on him, unleashing a roundhouse kick on the nearest soldier's neck, shattering his throat and windpipe, killing him instantly.

The next one raised his blaster and would have killed him if Skar hadn't kicked the blaster up into the air with his left foot. Skar's his right foot followed and kicked the soldier back into his comrades, immobilizing them for precious seconds, as Skar somersaulted backwards, grabbing the guard's descending rifle while it was still in the air and immediately opened fire upon them.

Once the bodies laid perfectly still and the clutter of armor had ceased, Skar put the rifle in its safety position, and looked down at the terrified Eknath, whimpering in the corner. He reached out and pulled his lightsaber from Eknath's possession and then raised the rifle to kill the telepath.

But a warning sense brought to his attention the approach of more soldiers outside the dungeon. With an unlimited reserve of anger, Skar felt like he'd been handed an endless supply of power. It seemed the bar had been lifted and all that remained was a desire in the Force to impress its user. Skar used the Force to elevate him above the floor just seconds before the soldiers charged into the room below him, thinking not to the check the space above them. Skar dropped back down then and landed in a crouch in the midst of the soldiers, swirling on his boots with his green blade held out, gutting four soldiers.

At the end of his swirl he threw the blade out, watching as it hovered on the air, dashing back and forth around the soldiers while it chopped at them, cleaving arms and expertly removing limbs. When it was over the blade returned to his waiting hand, just in time for him to deflect a bolt coming from outside the dungeon, sending it back and leaving a hole the size of a fist in the soldier's helmet.

With bodies surrounding him, Skar sheared his lightsaber in the air, using it to remove the load of anger and fury settling around his heart, flexing his limbs as he awaited the next assault.

Four more came through the doorway. Stretching out his free arm, he made a fist of his hand. One soldier fell to his death immediately, gargling blood on his visor, his heart ripped from its chest with one quick pull.

The remaining three attackers behind him began to fire, their rifles spraying blue bolts across the room, all of them weaving around Skar, bouncing off his lightsaber. And then he was on them, slashing left and right, evading their clumsy defenses, his burning blade moving through them like they were nothing but air.

When their bodies stopped moving, he settled back and turned off his blade, looked around to see that Eknath had run off during the fighting, but not really affected by that fact. There was an indifference inside him that came with his lust for killing, he wanted to kill Eknath, but there were plenty of others nearby to satisfy his desire for blood and carnage.

Skar strolled through the doorway and once outside a grim expression washed over his face. More soldiers were coming from down the corridor to his right, behind a closed door down there. The door began raising itself into the ceiling and Skar reached out to the Force to block it halfway. He threw himself on his belly, punched the safety off the rifle with a loud resonating click that seemed to ebb down the room, disappearing in the following roar of the fully automatic setting of the rifle.

Skar could only see his enemies up to their knees behind the half open door, but it didn't matter. Knees were as good a place as any to shoot a target. that existed only to offer him a forum in which he could vent his anger. The first man he chose, got both his kneecaps blown wide open, dropping him to the floor screaming his lungs out.

The second man turned around to see this, making himself the next victim, as the pounding rain of blaster-fire shredded his ankles into red lumpy pieces of indeterminable flesh. The last soldier had just enough time to fire off a salvo of his own beneath the door, but as quick as he was it didn't save him from having to sit in a wheelchair the rest of his life.

As cruel and painful as it was for them, Skar couldn't find enough humanity in his heart to even pretend he felt any sympathy. And even knowing it was unwise to leave behind still alive enemies, he felt their pain would serve as a greater vengeance than killing them. He wanted them to fear him, he wanted to make an example of them. So others would know that the gloves were off.

Three soldiers barged into the corridor from his left. His rifle's five-hundred bolt clip depleted, Skar leaped up and behind them, bringing out his lightsaber as he landed, surprising the soldiers. With one swiping move, he cleaved four shins. The two men tumbled to the floor, crying in agony, their legs ending in scorched stumps beneath their knees. The last of the soldiers turned to face him, but he was too slow.

Tightening his grip on the lightsaber, Skar swirled on his knee and kicked away the man's feet beneath him. Before the guard had even hit the floor, Skar dug his sword up and through the flesh beneath the man's chin, pinning his punctuated head to the ceiling, blood oozing down Skar's hand that held the hilt.

Skar powered down the blade and the man fell from the ceiling, a smoking hole in the ceiling above, as well as one straight through the man's skull. He stepped over the weeping men that had been spared for now, saw the blood running between all of them like a river that bound them all to the same revenge.

Almost consumed so fully by the darkness raging inside him that he no longer could remember the virtues he'd once rested his life upon, Skar stepped through the doorway, the hallway behind him littered with corpses, some of them still whimpering from the multiple wounds he'd distributed to them. Muting the moans and crying behind him, the doors slid shut.

* * *

Koll was en route to the dungeon where his second squad should have just arrived. His anxiety was building with each step he took, a worry for his men, they should have called back and announced their capture by now. But more than that, there was also a worry that one of them might end in the position where they actually killed the clone before he got the battle he wanted. Rather than waiting for them to call him, he called them.

"Squad, what's your status?"

Only silence.

"Squad, what's your status!" he shouted.

A crackle came through the silence, he could hear breathing, heavy breathing at the other end. Blaster fire followed and Koll's hand tightened around the comlink. He heard screaming, familiar voices crying out in agony, hidden beneath the thunder of loud blaster fire.

Koll entered the dungeon two minutes later, flanked by Sasa and a squad of his own men. Initially he felt his own remorse at seeing the dead bodies of his men, but it only grew as his entourage felt it also. He whisked away the thoughts and marched through the dead, sparing only one or two glances to identify the faces that could still be identified.

Koll grunted as he found lettering cleaved in the side of the door that their intruder had escaped through. Carved by a lightsaber. Koll ran his hand over it, clearing the letters. There were symbols there, but he couldn't read them. He did recognize them as Kjoil symbols though.

"What does it say?" he asked Sasa.

She came up beside him and read the symbols. She looked over at Koll, hesitant, but managing to say the words out loud when she looked away. She whispered, "it says; _death escapes no one_, _you have been warned_." She shivered. "Do you feel it? The Dark Side has him now."

With a heavy snort, Koll turned to the door undeterred and continued down the path of his prey.

Lingering in the dungeon a few seconds more, Sasa looked back up at the lettering carved into the wall.

_One way or another, I'm coming for you, mother.

* * *

_

Operating the controls, the hatch creaked open like an old rusty door. Hurrying inside, he crouched down and closed the hatch behind him as silently as he could, listening for dangers in this new terrain with every sense he had in his arsenal. The entryway lead onto a walkway above a storage room. The floor beneath him was however not lined up with crates and boxes like a normal storage room. What met him inside made him shudder with unwanted anxiety. And as fortunate as it was, he didn't believe it to be a coincidence, it couldn't be chance that he'd found this section of the yard so fast.

A hundred hostages crowded the floor beneath the walkway he was huddled down on. Skar leaned against the railing to look down, scouting the prisoners for wounded or dead. They all seemed unharmed. Infact they seemed fine.

They were _happy_.

Skar looked up, aiming his rifle at the two guards standing on a walkway intersecting his. It would only take one glance in his direction to spot him. Skar spared a glance back down at the prisoners. Not one was hurt. Not one of them was looking for a way out of there. Skar clenched his jaw tight, a feeling of betrayal writhing in his belly. Not even one disgruntled look on any of the faces down there. Some of the prisoners beneath were actually chatting away like nothing special was going on around them. Children were playing and giggling. Playing ball.

Skar kept his eyes on the two guards ahead of him, trying to make himself as small as possible.

_None of them want to leave. They're happy. They don't want to leave. Something's…made them docile. All I get from these people is well-being. Safety. _

Skar's throat clogged.

_Eknath did this._

But before he could act on it the two guards further down the walkway spotted him and were already radioing in their discovery when Skar leapt out from his shelter and let his rifle drown out the screaming of the hostages with a salvo of red lightning.

His bolts hit nothing and Skar knew he was forced to seek cover elsewhere, the walkway was too small for him to put up a fight. Resolved he threw himself over the railing of the walkway, softened his landing with the aid of the Force and touched down in a clearing in the center of the hostages.

The hostages all pulled away from him, some screaming, as he ignited his lightsaber and started to draw the attention of the guards over his head. They stayed focused on Skar, raining a thunderstorm of bolts at him. Skar deflected them deftly, concentrating on keeping the hostages safe as the blasts bounced off his blade.

Skar performed a sideways shoulder-roll just in time to ward off one shot from wounding a young boy, but the boy's face met him with fear. To them he was the evil one. He began to feel the subtle waves of fear coming from them, impacting against him like currents of water, pushing him back. He felt hazy and light on his feet at the strength of their growing animosity against him. It almost killed him when a shot from above fell outside his concentration.

Skar bounced the shot back, hitting the support strut for the walkway above his head. Without consciously working for it, three shots deflected later the entire walkway fell from the ceiling. Skar immediately reached out his free hand, concentrating all his energy into that motion, creating a cushion beneath the walkway, keeping it from smashing down on the supposed innocent hostages.

He was forced to give up his defense, shutting down the lightsaber, as it took all of his focus to keep the walkway hovering. Three hostages were cowering beneath it, screaming in fear at him.

_Damn it! Get out of there!_

Finally Skar was able to let the walkway drop, smashing it against the floor and he had had to support himself to keep from falling when the blast shook through the floor. Swirling on his knee Skar lined up his rifle with his shoulder, shooting open a hatch behind him that had been sealed to prevent the hostages from leaving. It was an exit for him and for the hostages.

"Come on!" Skar shouted back at the hostages, keeping his rifle aimed over their heads, ready to defend them if more soldiers should come.

Not one of them moved.

Another group of guards swarmed into the room, their weapons held at the ready. Skar shouldered the rifle and switched to his lightsaber, swirling he weapon in his hand, motioning them to charge. In silent communication the group holstered their rifles and instead retrieved a smooth hilt from their equipment belts. Each hilt extended into a long metal shaft, twice the length of his lightsaber, and the guards swung the staffs over their heads.

Skar charged forward.

One of the soldiers met him head on, while the others stayed back. The moment Skar's lightsaber impacted with the shaft Skar was surprised. His blade should have carved through it like air, but instead it met resistance. Without a moment of hesitation he pivoted around and struck at the guard's back but the staff was already there, blocking his attack.

_They're made from cortosis ore. I can't cut through them._

Skar went back a step, bringing his blade up as the rest of the soldiers flanked the first one, slight sounds of evil chuckles beneath their helmets. Skar felt their confidence rising as they displayed their skills with the staffs, thinking they had the best of him. Thinking they had him.

Skar joined in on their chuckles. _My blade can cut flesh_, Skar set himself in a defensive posture, _what can your staffs do?_

The eight soldiers rushed him, but before the first staff had even made contact with his lightsaber, Skar swung about in the thick of them, swinging his blade in wide circles. Three of them went down without even understanding their mistake, the air around them filled with red smoke as the blood splashed from them and around them. Like a hurricane of motion Skar took down two more, the blood flying through the air from the first three dead hadn't even touched down yet, and was now thickened with even more crimson clouds.

The blood washed over Skar like showers, but his rage and quick steps kept him focused on the fight. Blood ran down his form, painting his face in dark red camouflage. The last three soldiers tried to make the best of the confusion and bashed their staffs out in blindness. Skar blocked two hits, three hits, and four hits before bending down on his one knee, lashing out his blood-soaked arm and slicing through the midsection of a soldier.

The last two came from each side of him, the staffs swirling over their heads, their electronic snarls almost comical. Skar pivoted out of their target zone, and for a moment it seemed the two would run into each other. While they managed to dig their heels into the floor fast enough to avoid slamming against one another, the floor they had chosen wasn't suitable. Both of them slipped on the blood of their comrades, crashing down on their backs.

Skar stepped back behind the closest, pulling the man up by his collar and inserted his lightsaber through the back of the man's head, ending his struggle in a microsecond. The blade sheared through his visor and continued through the air, melting into the other soldier's face in kind. Skar powered down the blade and both of them fell to the floor, their faces replaced with a melted slab of burnt flesh.

Skar turned back to face the hostages. "Come on!" he implored.

Nothing. They still just stared back at him with fear, even more so now with his display at killing so ruthlessly. He wished he could undo what he'd done, but he realized he had no chance of winning this.

_Nothing to do for them_, Kayupa's voice said inside his head.

_You can't undo this. _

_Run!_

Skar accepted the circumstances and ran through the hatch. Even though the next section of storage rooms seemed vacant, except for stacks of metallic crates almost touching the ceiling, that didn't mean there weren't traps waiting to be sprung, or enemies to face. It couldn't have gone unnoticed to the terrorists that they'd lost their men in the tunnel beneath the surface, or what had just happened with the hostages.

Skar readied himself, feeling a sudden sensation of cold passing through him. He could feel Sonnet moving around his mind. Skar felt his heart beating faster, his danger sense. The direction the danger was coming from was somewhere beyond, somewhere not in this realm. It was an engrossing and powerful pull on the Force's strength, someone in constant tune with the Force. He had only once felt such a pull on the Force and then it had been bad. Skar grimaced.

He felt Sonnet inside of himself, like a ghost, almost taking control of his body but Skar fought it. He felt the spirit wanting him to lose control but he wouldn't. And feeling more of the darkness, the ever-growing black that was slowly consuming him from within but also outside, he felt that if he just kept moving, he could escape it.

But before he could even begin to search for a way out of the storage room he felt a presence beyond his own. He wasn't alone. Skar held his rifle out in front of him, as he sidestepped slowly behind a crate. He heard sounds nearby, and enhanced his senses with the Force. There was definitely a living being somewhere nearby, he could feel the heartbeat, the rushing of blood coursing through veins, and feel the micro vibrations of movement as the subject moved.

Skar backed himself up against the crate, and sneaked a peek around the edge of it. A woman was standing by a workstation, littered with tools and apparatuses, apparently unaffected or unaware of the fighting in the adjacent storage room.

The woman was young, maybe twenty, dressed in heavy gray army pants and a white shirt, with empty blaster-holsters on her thighs. There was bandaging around her right wrist and hand. She wore army boots and a hood fitted over her long blond hair. The woman's hands were hidden in front of her, tampering with something he couldn't see.

He ducked back behind his cover, his chest ached from stress and worry and he felt he could barely breathe. His head was swamping with too many thoughts, and he was amazed at how he had been able to keep his cool so far. He found that in worrying circumstances, such as combat, his instincts took over and his actions were produced out of his own quick thinking and gut feeling.

He was a warrior no doubt, but he felt like he was possessed by a demon when the warrior instinct came out. The demon was slowly leaving him now, he could sense its departure when his breathing became normal and his danger sense quieted down.

Skar straightened up, raised his rifle to aim at the woman's back, and started sneaking up behind her. She didn't appear armed, but he didn't want to make that assumption on his lacking information. Neither did he want to put her down dead, if she infact wasn't armed. A kill like that was nothing to be proud of, Jedi or not.

Skar snaked himself across the floor, crossing the distance. With his right hand on the blaster, he stretched out his left hand to touch her shoulder, applying a little magic to his touch, enough to knock her unconscious. He was just two steps away from her.

_Just a little further…_

The light boom startled them both as Skar's boot touched down on a air-duct grid. Skar could feel his own skin freezing, as well as the woman's skin. All the hairs on his body stood up and for a brief few seconds none of them dared to move, but they both knew. The woman knew she was not alone and Skar knew she knew.

Skar took the initiative. "Don't move!"

The woman snarled then sighed. "Another infestation? This place is crawling with bugs."

Skar walked close enough for her to feel the barrel of his rifle on the back of her neck. "You armed?"

She nodded towards a shelf to their left, two blasters laid there, well away from her reach.

Skar was reassured. "Any other weapons?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Who are you?"

The woman hesitated answering. "Junn." She turned her head slightly enough for Skar to see her right eye glancing over her shoulder at him. She kept turning, eager to see who her attacker was.

"Freeze." Skar pressed the barrel against her neck

But she kept turning. "Its hard not to in this place." She came around fully and their eyes locked. Skar thought he'd seen her somewhere before, but wasn't sure where. Something about the way her eyes looked at him felt familiar. There was a hint of melancholy in them, as well as excitement. The kind of anarchy one would expect from someone who loved the feel of battle. She was a soldier alright.

She smiled sardonicly. "The Jedi."

Skar opened his mouth but nothing came out. For a moment he slipped, but then regained his control of the situation. "Hands up."

She held up her arms, like any hostage would do. She knew the procedure. Somewhere in the back of his mind Skar saw himself as Kayupa, holding Shinran at gunpoint, both of them trying to explain their actions. But Skar didn't have to explain anything this time. She was the enemy. He could put her to sleep and then disappear but the familiarity in her eyes restrained him.

Skar held her in his crosshairs, ready to drop her the moment she tried anything funny.

She bit her lip. "You're going to kill me?"

Skar noticed her right hand, apart from the bandaging he recognized the off color of prostetic skin. "I don't kill someone...unarmed."

"You don't have much other option."

Skar was able to link two and two. "You were that sniper."

She smiled, and there was almost pride in her cold eyes. "That's right."

Guilt surfaced inside of him, though he couldn't explain why. He could feel some sadness inside her, related to her injury. She radiated _victim_. And feeling that sadness he felt responsible. And for a second he forgot why he was there. "You - "

"You don't need to bother," she said sternly, "I don't need your sympathy." Casually she glanced at a screen on the table to their right.

Skar's eyes followed hers -

The woman's right boot slammed into his left shoulder, kicking him sideways into a crate. He shot off a couple of rounds as a reflex, but she was already running towards the shelf with her own blasters. Skar lifted up his rifle and aimed at the small of her back.

But as he shot, the woman reached the shelf and kept on running up the wall, dodging the shots, somersaulting at the top and landed back in the center of the room, her blaster aimed at him. Skar gasped as he laid on the floor, his weapon aimed at her, and hers aimed at him, none of them speaking.

The silence grew thick, it was a stalemate.

Skar didn't dare move, he stayed down on the floor with his rifle aimed at her. Skar reached out to her, could feel her surging in the Force for the first time, it felt like a breath of fresh air, she was still untrained. He could feel the Force in her dwelling and could feel her reaching out to something in the room.

Skar looked to his left to see the crate come flying against them both, hurdling like a torpedo. Both their weapons were knocked out of their hands, as they both moved away from the crate. She hadn't counted on the crate to hit her too, but it did. A sign of her lack of training in the Force.

Skar rolled to his side, watched the crate circle around her under her guidance as it came around her, and continued onwards towards him, trying to squash him against the floor. Skar commanded the Force to slow the events around him, or at least give him extra speed so he could think of a solution.

Time slowed and the crate slowly drifted towards him. Skar had just enough time to pull his rifle, and her blaster, into his hands, then he turned over to face the incoming crate.

Skar beckoned the Force and time stopped completely. The crate hovered above him like a giant shadow. Skar blasted away, his fingers working as they pressed the triggers in both his hands as fast as they could, shredding the crate into a million flaming pieces. The crate disintegrated before him as the red beams hailed through the air.

Slowly time started ticking away again and the flaming debris picked up speed as they began to fly the other way through the room, before finally exploding in a giant flash. He heard the woman screaming on the other side of the explosion. As it wore down, Skar jumped to his feet and tried to see through the glare.

The woman was lying on the floor amidst all the fire, her legs pinned beneath large pieces of the blown-up crate. Four of his shots had pierced through the crate during the fighting and struck her. She was hit twice in the stomach, once in the arm, and the last shot had left a grueling roasted mark on her shoulder. The sprinkler system turned on and washed them both in a cold pour.

Skar stood over her, listening to her defiant sneering, watching the tears blend with the water running over her face. Her sadness was blooming, and he couldn't help feeling affected by it.

She cursed, spitting blood from her lips. "You win again, Jedi. That's twice you've broken me."

Skar strapped the rifle over his shoulder and clipped her blaster to the lightsaber ring in his belt. "You're still alive."

She groaned, shaking her head. "My hand is gone...I'm shot...My legs are broken..." her good hand touched the wounds in her stormach, "...breathing won't last for long."

Skar hunched down next to her, touched her hand, felt the small heartbeat that was beating slower and slower for each second. Skar sighed. She was right, she would die soon. He knew he could help her end it, or he could help her survive, but she was still an enemy. He felt sad for her, but didn't know what to do. He only knew he wanted to help her.

"Leave me," she cried. "I don't want your help."

Skar nodded. Even if he wanted to, there was no time to help her now. If she was destined to live on, the Force would make it so, without his help. Others would find her and save her. But if they didn't...

"I'll be back for you."

She looked up at him, her tearfilled eyes showing some fear. "For the rest of me, you mean?"

Skar was about to answer, to tell her his intentions, but true enough his danger sense flared. Danger was closing in on him.

Skar ran for the nearest door. The hall beyond was no better, soldiers were swarming at the end of the hall, planning to assault him from behind. Skar ducked behind the bulkhead and one of the soldiers came running towards him. When the guard was close enough Skar ran forth meeting the man midway, pulled the rifle from the man's hands. Skar followed up with a quick elbow to the face, smashing through his visor and the soldier went down, blood oozing from his nose.

Skar swirled and unleashed hell with the rifle. He wasn't shooting to hit, but more to lay down a suppressing fire that would make anyone down there duck for cover leaving him a window of opportunity to escape in.

Blasting at full automatic he walked backwards as fast as he could, he knew there was a door somewhere behind him, hopefully one he could seal from the inside. But he was forced to hide himself as the soldiers ducked out from their safety and shot at him. Like him they laid down a fire but one more chaotic than his. They shot to destroy whoever was shooting at them.

Skar crouched down behind a bulkhead, and took a deep breath. Shots whizzed by the bulkhead, but he fought to remain calm. Stretching out to the Force he felt seven or so enemies advancing down the corridor towards him, shooting from behind bulkheads and crates. The shots ricocheted off the walls and flew in all manner of directions.

With his back against the bulkhead Skar lifted the rifle up over his left shoulder, aiming at the roof, and tugged back on the trigger. There was no way he could shoot those behind the crates from in front, but his shots bounced off the ceiling and flew down behind the crates, killing those who thought they'd chosen a perfect hiding place.

Skar read his power supply off the side of the rifle. 53 shots, which wasn't much in rapid fire. Skar switched to single shot, and looked over his shoulder. Two soldiers had died in his bouncing shot trick, but the other five were obviously learning from their example. They started shooting at the walls, trying to get an angle right that would take him out. Skar had the Force to warn him in case any of them had a degree in physics.

"Hold your fire!" someone shouted at the end of the corridor. Slowly the shots died out and the silence broke through the smoke in the corridor.

Then Skar heard laughter. "Just what I'd expect from you, Master! Ingenious!"

Koll.

As much as he wanted to kill Koll, he knew this wasn't the place and time, the odds were against him. He lifted the rifle up against the bulkhead, aiming for the wall far away down the corridor, somewhere behind the crates and the soldiers. He had to time this just right.

Skar pulled the trigger.

The shot raced over the heads of the soldiers, past Koll, bouncing off the far wall and coming right back the way it came, Skar ran for the door. The shot came flying right behind him and it struck into the door-panel just in time for the door to open in front of Skar as he rolled through the opening.

With a flick of the Force he closed the door behind him and sealed it with the rifle.

_Yes, run! Run as far and fast as you can!_

Skar thanked Kayupa with a snort for pointing out the obvious, but did start running as fast as his weary body would allow. He passed through several empty corridors, cargo holds, work stations, empty hangars, leaping through their every obstabcle like a professional track runner. His lungs soon began to burn like he'd swallowed liquid fire, his feet and legs beginning to feel like the bones had been removed and reduced to shapes of screaming muscles.

His every nerve was riddled with fear and urgency. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he was going to run until he fell over or fell dead. And he wouldn't look back, he could never look back. All he had was the running, as long as he ran his body's pain could distract him from anything. Even the screaming howls of the Dark Side now firmly nested inside of him.

"Do you where this corridor leads?" Skar asked in his panting.

Kayupa's laughter was insanely loud inside his head. _Does it matter?_

"Of course it matters!" Skar snarled, "I don't want to run into an ambush or a trap!"

_No_, Kayupa continued to laugh like a madman, _rather a high ledge or a sharp object._

Skar could feel himself slowing down, suddenly concious that Kayupa maybe wasn't the most reliable source of information. "What?"

_It doesn't matter where you're going, Skar. You're heading the same thing as everyone else, you're just running towards it. Death._

Skar shook his head clear of those thoughts. "I'm not going to - "

_Then what are you going to do? You're alone, with an army of thousands against you, led by people you don't have the heart to kill. This place is beyond you, Skar. There is some honor in accepting that, in ending one's own life for the greater good. All you have left is death; do it for equilibrium, for freedom, for me, for Shinran - _

"No!" Skar yelled with all the breath he could spare while running, "I won't give in to it! You won't break me, Kayupa!"

_- for your son._

Skar knew he had to keep running, but he couldn't. The thought of his child tore through his defenses like it was meant to, and carved a deep wound through his heart. His running slowed to a mere walk, before he finally leaned against the wall and sunk down on the floor, breathing heavily which only made the tears flow faster.

"Damn you, Kayupa," he wept, "I _hate _you. Why are you doing this to me?" The cold floor sent more shivers through him, and the darkness around him felt like it was closing in, like the corridor itself was trying to swallow and destroy him, just like everything and everyone else around him. "Why!"

_I've seen your son, Skar. He looks just like you, and he asks for you sometimes. He wants you to come to him. Shinran has tears in her eyes when she talks about you. She misses you._

He reached out to the Force, eager to feel them, to see them, to hear them. If the story was true, there really was someone on the other side waiting for him, but there was only one way to know. He'd already allowed the Dark Side to take hold of him, to become part of him, more than he had intended. He could still hear Sonnet's voice whispering in the back of his mind, he could sense the hatred of the Dark Side deep within him, in a place light could not reach.

If there even was a light.

_The Force governs everything, Skar. It is the fabric of fate, of destiny. Only those who have it are able to enforce it, to bend it, to change the course of the future. I've seen the future, Skar. The future as it is now with you still alive. And I see barren warplains, I see planets on fire with battle, I see blood flowing endlessly into a spiral of death that will consume this entire Galaxy. And you are the sole cause of all that darkness, all that evil. You can change it, Skar. Know that it is your destiny to die._

"NOOOOO!" Skar screamed as loud as he could. The chaos in his heart and mind was becoming true madness, building and building until he finally surrendered to it. He clutched the lightsaber to his chest. "I'll kill them! All of them!"

Kayupa grinned mockingly. _Alone? You don't stand a chance. You're only making them more powerful. Its time to step aside and let a younger generation take over._

Skar thought about that. "You mean Rishi."

_Yes._

Skar shook his head, shedding tears around him. "He is not ready. He's just a boy, he'll get himself killed."

_And whose fault would that be?_

Skar's already broken heart burned with anguish. "Mine...I failed him." More tears flowed down his cheeks. "I failed as his Master."

_And you continue to do so. As long as you live, you're only weakening him. There's only one way you can save him._

Skar finished crying, but the anger and the hatred remained in him. A fuel for his resolution, a burning fire that made him stand back up, grasp the lightsaber firmly in his hand and start walking back down the corridor from where he came. "No...there's another way." Skar ignited his lightsaber, the green blade snapping to life, filling the empty corridor with its hiss, like a serpent ready to strike. "I won't kill myself, Kayupa. If I die, I die fighting. I die ripping Koll's heart out and stuffing it down Sasa's throat. I die killing as many as I can."

Kayupa stayed silent for a moment. _You've got no chance, Skar._

Skar shrugged indifferently. "I thought you'd be happy. This proves I believe in you."

_How?_

"You yourself said that I hadn't reached my full potential, that I only knew Jedi techniques and that I'd barely scratched the surface of Kjoil powers," Skar smiled, a sick venomous grin, "Skind Kjoil killed thousands in his lifetime, so if I really am him," his grin tightened, his teeth clenched together in perverse lust for killing, "I have a lot of catching up to do."

* * *

Koll was leading his troops through the corridors of the station, following the trail of blood that the clone had left behind, as well as the monstrosity's presence in the Force. The presence in the Force was strengthening, the distance closing between him and his prey. He had no answers for how the clone had managed to escape, and he didn't care. At least not yet. Right now there was a task to be done, one he had put off for far too long. The sound of the troops marching behind him made him feel glorious inside, their tight rhythemic stride filling him with confidence and ferocity. And although he had fought in hundreds of battles, none had ever given him such pleasure as the one he was trailing now.

With his platoon of soldiers following him, Kayupa was thinking about which fighting style he would employ once he faced the Jedi. It had been years since he'd fought anyone connected with the Force outside of training.

Him and his army turned a corner, entered a small hangar, the patches of blood leading straight across behind doors into another corridor. They continued without breaking their stride or taking halt.

_You cannot run from me, Master. I will hunt you to the far ends of the Galaxy if I must. There is no - _

Kayupa stopped in his tracks, a horrible coldness moving through him. He felt a heavy deep darkness was being used somewhere. Someone was feeding anger into the Force and was in return granted -

_Oh, no._

He was halfway across the hangar when the doors before them split down their center and opened easily. Koll held up his right hand, the first line of troops getting down on one knee with their rifles ready, while the second line aimed their rifles over the shoulders of the first line.

Koll's hand slowly descended, as he took in the sight of the beaten, broken and bloody man standing in the doorway. The pants were black with blood, his bare chest glistening with sweat across blue and dark bruises. The clone's free hand waved through his long slick hair, folding it back and revealing two eyes burning with rage.

The other hand moved up a green lightsaber before his face, clutching the hilt a hand's length from his chest.

Koll smirked. "So...you've stopped running."

The clone's face remained frozen, those angry red eyes staring back at him. "I realized...the further I ran...the further I was from you."

Koll's heart filled with excitement, standing on the footstep of a dream at long last coming true. He opened his coat and clipped two hilts from his belt, igniting twin red blades. "I was starting to worry you would not face me, the way I had hoped. I'm glad you've come to see the inevitability of it. You and I are destined for this. Only your breaking...can make me."

The clone stood, seemingly considering his words, but all that came from him was a light chuckle.

Koll sneered. "You find this amusing?"

"I wast just thinking," the clone swung the blade down to point the tip at Koll, "when you die, I won't have to listen to anymore of your whining."

The soldiers behind him stirred. Koll's insides came alive with anger, an unstoppable current of hatred soon following. His hands tightened on his two blades. "Very well," he said through clenched teeth, "no more words." He swung both blades at his sides and set himself, keeping one blade ahead of him and one up by his head. "Your screaming will be your only eulogy!"

The clone lowered his lightsaber slightly, and tilted his head. "If you want me, Koll," his other hand came up, fingers sprayed, "you're going to have to wait."

Koll felt what he could only describe as a gigantic invisble hand close around him, lifting him up from the floor and tossing him to the side. He crashed against the far wall, heard several bones crack down his left side before slumping to the floor. Both lightsabers fizzled out, scorching his palms, and died before even rolling from his hands. He felt a surge of darkness pass over him, one greater than any he'd ever allowed to flow through himself.

A symphony of hauting ghost-like voices, the kinds he'd only heard Sonnet produce, sang directly into his ears as he watched the clone leap from his station, smashing into the horde of troops before they could even get a shot fired. The giant hangar doors opened by their own will, exposing those inside to the roar of the blistering winds outside. Gusts of air manipulated by the Force pulled the living, as well as those already dead, troops outside, scattering them across Regana's virgin white snowy surface.

And the last thing Koll saw before darkness took him, was a brilliant green blade swirling in the midst of an endless swarm of soldiers, cleaving heads and opening chests, while the wind carried off the remains to the great white oblivion outside.

* * *

Sasa bowed her head, the sadness filling her. She'd felt it before, deaths of this magnitude. She'd always been the observer in all of their wars, the mother figure of the army, the one watching over them. Many had told her that the thought that had carried them through battle had been to see her smile again. She was their mother, as Koll was their father. But the only thing that had changed was that the deaths she felt through the Force were usually those of the enemy. Not their own.

She knew Koll was out of action, knocked out and now oblivious to the slaughter happening in the hallways and corridors of their base. Why their enemy had spared Koll was anyone's guess, but Sasa had her suspicious. The man who thought of her as a mother, would reap through this station like a whirlwind, killing anything he found until someone killed him.

Knowing that Eknath had succeeded in moving Sonnet's soul, if the being even had one, into her enemy's body, she knew he possessed a power unlike any Jedi, Sith or Kjoil had ever owned before. The special strength and freedom of a Kjoil, with unlimited access to the Dark Side, the stronger side of the Force, was a living nightmare, a mockery of their carefully laid plan.

Sonnet was supposed to have taken control of the body, but somehow the Kjoil had outsmarted Eknath. The whole mission stood on the edge of a sword, with Koll unconcious, Junn was dying below in a part of the station that was burning to the ground fast, and losing soldiers by the dozens every second. Her only hopes were Krych, Raine, Eknath and their respective apprentices.

Sasa reached the chambers that Koll and herself had made their temporary home, tossing off her robe and instantly undressing. She flicked on her comlink, opened up a frequency and placed it on the bedstand while she collected her gear.

"Krych, Koll is out of action and the prisoner is running rampart throughout the station. Get in touch with Eknath and Raine and tell them to meet me down in the cloning facility. We'll stand a better chance united," she opened a large metallic chest by the foot of the bed and pulled out its contents, a suit of armor she'd only had the chance of using a handful of times, but one unsurpassed by any other she'd ever worn, "Krych, do you hear me?"

A few heartbeats passed before he answered in an indifferent but labored voice. "I hear you."

She could tell instantly by his tone where he was. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know," he answered, "I haven't found her yet. The fire has spread more than I expected."

She sighed, fitting pieces of armor over her slender form. "Don't get yourself killed - "

" - over her?" he put in. "That was what you were about to say, wasn't it?"

She pulled on boots, tightening them. "You know it wasn't."

He didn't sound convinced. "Have you spoken with Derrick?"

A panic passed through her heart. "Why? What's wrong?"

"The Republic fleet...it'll be here in twenty-four hours."

Finishing dressing herself, she glanced at herself in a mirror, fully decked out in a deep crimson red battlesuit. It had a protective layer of coating underneath the real pieces of armor, a leathery black bodysuit that protected her from fire as well as blaster bolts, while the real armor was made from cortosis ore, able to withstand a lightsaber. The news of the Republic fleet's imminent arrival dampened most of her joy in feeling the uniform on her again. "That will complicate things."

"You don't say," Krych said sarcasticly. "Eknath is already in the cloning facility, transferring the test subject."

Sasa's body stiffened. "What! Who gave him authorisation?"

"Himself, I suppose."

"What about Jovis?"

"Haven't seen him."

Sasa clipped her lightsaber, complete with a Kjoil family tree, to her belt, starting to feel like a fighter again, a warrior. She hadn't raised her lightsaber outside of training for almost five years, but she'd had a feeling she would break that record during this mission long before they'd even embarked.

"Right, well, I'm heading down to meet Eknath. Pull out of there and link up with us."

"No, I'm staying."

She cursed. "Krych, there is no time for this. Focus," she hated having to say it, but she knew it would help, "remember your loyalty."

She heard his breathing change on the other end, his quick panting became a calm even flow. When he spoke, his words were emotionless, with all the warmth of a droid's vocal pattern. "Understood. See you soon."

As soon as that transmission ended, she changed frequency. "Jovis, are you still alive?"

The connection was littered with static. "Warm and cozy."

"Where are you?"

He laughed darkly. "Well, since your prisoner escaped and people started dying, me and Akla have holed up down below with the vhroniks. Charming company, I might add."

She thought for a second, she'd forgotten about those vicious canines. It seemed chance was still on their side. "Good, now I want you to release them."

His hesistation was evident even over the static. "Wha - ? Where is the General?"

The fact that he even questioned her angered her to the core. "Unavailable," she said through clenched teeth, "now do as I order and release the vhroniks."

"Right away, of course," he said, sounding very defensive, "but what's happened up there?"

She tensed. "I don't know all the details yet, but you're right about the prisoner break. He's loose inside the facility and not too happy."

She heard what sounded like a metallic lock opening on the other end, animal howling and claws touching floor.

"Vhroniks are free."

She nodded to herself. "Let's hope they prove their worth."

"Any other orders?" Jovis asked.

Sasa plucked the comlink from the bedstand and attached it to her gauntlet. The lights in the chamber faded in and out for a few seconds before dying completely; the Kjoil had reached their generator already. The fact worried her but it changed her resolve. In the back of her mind she admitted to herself that the mission was on a turbolift going straight to hell, but she also knew it hadn't reached there yet.

"There go the lights," Jovis said. "Does that mean the prisoner is already at the cloning facility?"

She shook her head. The fusion generator that the plant was currently reliant upon was in the cloning facility. "No. It means Eknath is draining power."

"Draining power?"

"For the test subject of the facility. The first run. Looks like he's gone ahead of plans. How far are you from the cloning facility? I've ordered the others to meet up with me there. Can you make it there?"

"Maybe," he said in a distracted voice, "what about the ysalamiri?"

Sasa's insides froze. "Are you thinking - ?"

"I'm _planning_. Riokon asked me to stage them all around the facility, in the lower levels. They're decked out on basement lifts, all of which are linked to a single control. If I raise the lifts - "

She finished the thought. "They would dampen the entire facility."

"Leaving the Jedi intruder weakened."

She nodded. "But also us."

"But weakened he's got no advantage against our numbers."

She knew he was right. "You surprise me, Jovis."

He chuckled lightly. "But without power, the lifts won't work."

"The power will be restored soon enough. And when it does, I want you to raise those lifts."

"Understood. Does anyone even know where the Jedi is?"

Her feelings told her to go and look for Koll, but the man had survived through more battles than she could count; if anything she trusted him to take care of himself. And she also knew he would want her to see to the mission first, to think straight and not let personal feelings intervene.

_Personal feelings are what got us here in the first place._

She snorted. "Just listen for the screams. It's everyone for themselves now, Jovis. Do not try going after the Jedi. He's out of your league."

* * *

The repair yard was too small for him, too few enemies to kill, not enough blood to spill. It felt like a cage, walls that only kept him at bay, kept an insatiable inside of him tamed and unreleased. He wanted to kill, he wanted to tear life from existence, he wanted to carve a hole through the very curtains of this world that kept him locked in a physical form. He wanted to swallow up entire galaxies, he wanted to rip star systems from the face of the universe.

Skar Kjoil, if he could still be called that name, was a tidal wave of anger and bloodlust flooding through every corridor, every chamber and every little space with a lightsaber that never ceased to move. He preyed on life, every shred of it he could lock onto, he hunted down. The army was facing a single adversary and losing. Their numbers dropped at a steady rate, a single outdated lightsaber cutting up millions worth of credits in armor and equipment.

Skar smiled in the midst of all the carnage, as an old part of him remembered the young girl who'd taken his test-scores back at the simulator on Coruscant. He bet she would have been impressed with his results. The death-toll - no, he corrected himself. Targets didn't have death-tolls.

They had _nothing_.

The killer inside him counted targets, for that was all they were; targets. No longer did he see the intelligence behind eyes, the sensation of emotions he blocked out consciously. He didn't want to think these targets had dreams or even hopes. Or families. He didn't want to picture children being left behind without a parent, he didn't want to think of the life he'd had without parents. He didn't want to feel human, he cared nothing for mercy. These targets were no different from training droids to him. They were lifeless,

And Skar marched on, like the blade of death itself. So far the Dark Side had kept him alive, but at a great cost. it was better this way. They were wrong, he was right. He felt justified. Skar tore down entire buildings with pure hatred, dismantling the repair yard one structure at a time. He knew sooner or later they would stop coming, and he would reach the Inner Council of the army, he would fight Eknath, he would fight Koll and all the others he could now sense who were with them. The ones he knew intimately through his connection with Sonnet.

And he would find her, and he would plunge his lightsaber down her throat, killing her for the love she was never there to give him and still denied him. The thought of killing them all didn't even bother him. He only feared what would happen when there were no more to kill.

He feared being alone.

He'd always been alone, he could see that now. Even with a handful of friends around him he'd never been satisfied, he would always crave something he didn't know what was. He would always doubt if all he had was ever enough, because he didn't know when he couldn't handle more. It was the same with the Force, he sucked it down into himself, as much as he could hold, even when it felt like he was about to explode from the inside. He would drain this galaxy dry of the Force, for all the good it never did, for all the wrongs it never rectified. And all the things it had never shown him, the truth and the lies.

He could feel himself losing, becoming more and more dark inside, darker than even Sonnet had been. And although a part of him, the old part of him, screamed for peace, the sound drowned out in explosions, blasterfire, the hum of his lightsaber and the dying cries of thousands upon thousands of soldiers.

* * *

The single guard standing outside the dungeon kept himself informed of the events through his comlink. By the way things were sounding, their main prisoner had escaped and was rampaging through the repair yard in a killing spree. The General was missing and all of the Inner Circle was being sent to the cloning facility underground. He'd tried contacting the squad leader, Eulogy, for more information on the situation but no one responded on her frequency.

Afraid to admit it, he was starting to feel the first sensations of fear passing through him. The lack of proper communication and the fact no one knew where the General was, was a scenario he'd never experienced before. He knew his orders were to stay put outside the dungeon, but being there alone worried him for the first time when he didn't know what was happening in the rest of the repair yard.

He was standing right outside the sealed magnetic doors into a certain cell when the lights above him flickered like a fading heartbeat before dying completely. His hands started to tremble in the thick darkness. His helmet's internal AI kicked in sure enough and the night vision setting came to life.

Only to reveal a fist painted in bright green against black flying towards his face. The punch knocked him out instantly, his body went lax and he dropped like a stone.

Kast massaged his right hand with his left, nodding to his comrades inside the dungeon that the coast was clear. "I think the helmet broke my finger."

Stix came out first, instantly claiming the unconscious guard's rifle for his own. "Quit your whining. If you had to break a finger for us to get out that stinking cell, I'd break every one you have."

Kast winced as he popped the finger back in place, biting back the pain. "Gee, Stix, you make me feel all warm inside when you say those things."

Stix kept searching the guard. "Stow it, Kast. I ain't in the mood."

Salvor came out next, snatching the guard's sidearm, a simple blaster, but still far more advanced than their original gear. Call grabbed the guard's helmet, pulled it onto his bald head, checking the different frequencies for intel, and trying to get in touch with Tracker, if the droid was still operational. They shared the rest of the guard's gear evenly, Kast himself satisfied with just the single vibroblade by the guard's shin.

Call listened intently. "Seems our friend Jarod is responsible for this. He escaped and is currently raging a one-man way against the terrorists."

Kast smiled. "Maybe he could use a hand."

Salvor nodded to his men. "Right, listen up; we've got no chance with just this equipment. We proceed quietly, and arm ourselves with whatever we can find. Once we're properly equipped, we'll link up with Jarod and find out where to go from there."

Stix looked at the other's equipment. "If you guys are hiding detonators out on me, I swear I'll - "

"STIX!" Salvor shouted. "Did you hear me?"

Stix, looking extremely grumpy, cocked his rifle. "Sounds like a plan."

Kast juggled the vibroblade between his right fingers. "I'll take point."

* * *

Krych ran down the flaming corridor as fast as he could, ducking under and jumping over obstacles as the walls around him caved in and sparks sprayed. Ignoring his many new wounds, the growing fires and collapsing structure, he checked every hatch and door for a path that would lead him to where he figured Junn would be. He tried to calm his breathing, trying to make his heart stop pounding. Trying to make his feelings go away, tried no

care about what he was doing. He trusted that no harm could fall to Junn, a woman who had deserved no evil and no pain. A woman who had merely been tricked by Koll and his own selfish wishes. A woman who hadn't deserved the treachery he himself had shown her.

His silenced lightsaber in hand, following the Dark Side like a compass, he found a storage room blazing with fire from burning and exploding crates, a cloud of thick smoke covering everything, and ducked inside. At first sight Krych didn't recognize the room, there was deadly fire everywhere and electrical currents hissed from scorched cables and instruments.

And there Junn was, lying peacefully in the center of the snapping flames. Krych was about to smile at seeing her but then the realization came over him.

He couldn't _feel _her.

With slow hesitant steps Krych walked through the fire like a ghost, the flames dancing between his fingers and legs, oblivious to the pain as he reached the body in the room and crouched down next to it.

Krych ran his hand over the face of the corpse. His shoulders fell down, and his back arched. Uninvited they came, a rush of memories and feelings coming from the still present soul in Junn's body. The woman's presence in the Force was almost gone but her spirit seemed to linger around the body yet. Krych could feel the spirit, almost hear it. Hear its frustration, its fear of what was to come next.

More than the grief of losing the only person he'd ever really loved, he felt shame in himself. Not only because he had walked away from Junn, but because of the fact that he hadn't been able to protect her, help her. He would have been with her, if he hadn't been so stubborn. That was what she talked about, and she'd been right. And it shamed him even more to admit that this sort of thing had to happen before he came to his senses.

"Junn," Krych said quietly, his voice breaking. Kayupa gathered Junn up in his arms, hugging her. Junn's dead eyes stared at him, staring past him and past everything. Junn's eyes stared into whatever place she was going to, far away from him. "I'm so sorry, Junn," he whispered into her ear, "I was wrong. I should've...I didn't know, I'm so _sorry_." He cried and he hugged her closer, holding her as if it would make her come back. Krych reached out to the spirit, calming it with his own touch, telling it in gentle notes that it was time to leave.

But it resisted.

The thought of her spirit, her warrior's pride refusing to give in, tore at the strings of his heart. "No," he whispered, "please, just go."

And still it resisted.

He deepened himself, trying not to think of himself as pushing Junn over an invisible ledge, killing her fully. But in fact, that was what he was doing. He was killing her. But he understood only then that it wasn't her that was resisting. But someone else was pushing the other way, someone more powerful than him.

Krych stood instantly, igniting his red lightsaber, searching the crumbling chamber for the source of this intrusion. He circled around himself, checking the shadows, the corners and the -

The ceiling. Sitting up there, crouched down on a group of large pipes, a pair of eyes stared back at him.

Red eyes.

Krych's feet spread apart and he brought up his blade. The figure scoffed at the display and jumped from the pipings, landing gently on the other side of the room. The man was dressed only in a pair of torn fatigues, his upper body stained with blood, cuts and wounds, a mess of blood, sweat and soot. The long dark hair was soaked with perspiration, clinging to his face, several strands running down the front. His bare feet seemed to pay no mind to the fires burning around them. He held a single lightsaber clenched in the bloodied grasp of a tattooed hand, intricate symbols that ran up both muscular arms.

His eyes bore into Krych, and although the man was a stranger, Krych felt a familiarity of the man in the Force. And it was the only thing holding him back from cutting him down.

The man's lips cracked into a devious smile, and when he spoke his voice was deep and omnious. "Krych."

The voice was familiar also, which brought even more terror to his heart. "You know me?"

The torn man shrugged slowly. "A part of me does."

Krych gathered the pieces, but was still reluctant. "Sonnet?"

He nodded, seemingly distracted by something. "He's part of me...another part of me, although I am - " his eyes flickered, his face scrunching up, " - losing grasp of where he begins, and I end."

Krych's confusion went up against a bright sun and was instantly melted. This was the prisoner. The man who'd taken Junn's hand, the one responsible for her death. Krych's veins flowed with hatred and anger in a second, like his blood was fuel itself and the knowledgement of this man was the spark. "I'll show you where you end." His feet ground into the floor, setting himself. "You did this," he pointed to Junn with the tip of his red blade.

It took several heartbeats for the man to look down at Junn's body, his eyes become slits and he looked like he'd never seen her before. The man was clearly unstable, perhaps going on insane, yet his presence brimmed with so much power in the Force that Krych could almost feel it like a wind brushing up against him.

The man's head tilted -

- and Junn coughed up blood. Her lips began to draw breath again, fighting for what air she could pull in. Krych took a quick step forward, shocked with disbelief. She was breathing. He almost forgot about his enemy, until he realized what had happened. The man had brought her back to life.

Krych took another step forward, wanting to hold her, comfort her -

But the man's hand moved and the green lightsaber came up fast, holding Krych at bay with the tip of the blade only inches away from his face. The powerful man smiled tauntingly. "She doesn't belong to you."

Krych felt a chill. The man indeed carried a sensation reminiscent of Sonnet, the Dark Side's living embodiment. And it seemed he carried Sonnet's memories as well. Krych could feel the Dark Side radiating off the man in great surges, like he was the Dark Side itself. Krych was devoted to the Dark Side, but he was just a practitioner; this man was the Dark Side incarnate.

The man's blade never wavered as he repeated his words. "She _doesn't _belong to you."

Shifting on his heel quickly Krych batted the man's blade aside effortlessly, coming around fully with a strike of his own. The blade whipped across the air over Junn's body, but never connected. The prisoner jumped back, landing amongst a pile of burning crates. He looked around at the flames snapping around him with a dissaproving scowl.

Krych raised his lightsaber in a guard.

The man scoffed. "A little warm in here, don't you think?" Flinging out a fist he mentally pulled a large burning crate from the floor and slammed it across the air that separated him from Krych. The crate exploded furiously against the wall to Krych's right, leaving a giant gap into the freezing outside. The flames around him snapped as the heat of the room was sucked out.

The man chuckled madly across from him. "Let's step outside, Krych!" The man ran for the gap and somersaulted through. The man swirled around himself before landing gingerly on the snowy floor seven levels below.

Desperate for vengeance, Krych followed, leaping through the gap. In his descent he saw the man below him in the snow, looking up. And before Krych was even halfway to the ground, the man leapt up to meet him, striking at Krych with his blade several times as he flew by. The fight in midair Krych managed to survive, but only by luck. Having to defend himself in the air had distracted him and as a result he now crashed down into the snow below him like a rock. He cried out in pain, but forced to himself to disregard it when he saw the man coming back down amongst the falling snow and tearing winds.

Krych rolled to his side, hearing the man drop down close by only a second later. Krych jumped to a stand, snow flying off him as he whirled to face his attacker.

The man stood there, half naked amidst falling snow and chilling winds, yet his face was solid as rock. His green lightsaber made little circles in the air by his feet, but it was more by impatience than carelessness.

"Do you feel it, Krych? The uselessness. You've given yourself to the Dark Side and now," his long hair whisked around his face, and only those red eyes shone through the strands, "now it wants _more_."

Krych set himself, ignoring the cold that threatened to steal his awareness. He placed a bubble around him against the chill, and sharped his mind into a single focus; to fight. His blade came up, and Krych allowed everything else to fade away. "Then it will to come and get it."

The man laughed insanely, clearly infatuated by Krych's defiance. "Good," he beat out his arms, loosening the muscles it seemed, but lightning poured from his hands that threw up the snow around his feet, "I admire your audacity...a shadow fighting against the blaze of a sun."

They engaged in a fierce duel. Red against green blades flew through the air, melting particles of snow as they touched, the air filled with sparks and the distorting sound of lightsabers crashing against each other. The man kept his sick grin through the entire fight, perversly reveling in the simple fact that he was fighting, that he was about to destroy, main and kill.

And though Krych's instincts were the same; to gain power and to conquer, to be victorious, the man's spirit was drowning out Krych's. Krych was merely a flowing stream against the man's roaring ocean.

And he admitted to himself that he was unable to match the man's powers, but resolve and anger veiled that insecurity too eagerly. The man was a boundless reserve of ferocity, an animal of the Dark Side. There was no soul left behind those red eyes, no hint of mercy, no clue to a part once human.

The two and their lightsabers flurried, circling and pounding on each other with all they had, their feet kicking up the snow. Krych kept his own, sticking to his teaching, placing his trust in his Master's lessons. If he lost it now, caved in to his own pain, the man would pluck him from existance as easily as wind bended leaves. And he had no doubt the man was aware of this, that this was just a game to him.

And Krych was willing to play; but it was a loser's game since all the powers Krych possessed felt like they flowed from the man himself. In a sense Krych was fighting the very thing that made himself powerful. Krych could see the man standing before him, lean and seemingly as fragile as any living being, but in the Force the man stood out as a wall, an endless wall that moved slowly across the snowy floor, trying to push Krych off the edge and out of life.

But the fear only strengthened Krych, it fed him. Fear and anger became the only power he had to fight back the current of death this man personified.

The man sighed with pleasure, as they both pulled back. Krych felt dizzy and heavy from exertion, his bare arms rippling and burning with tension. His back started to hunch, but he refused to take his eyes off the man. The cold air being pumped into his lungs made his chest hurt.

The man wasn't even breathing hard. "At the end of heartache, and soon the end of life."

Krych could barely hear the words over the wind and the thumbing in his ears. "I'll kill you for hurting her."

The man appeared unruffled. "Kill me? Boy, you can't even tire me."

"It's all I got," Krych said as he started to straighten out, "you won't stand in our way."

The man just stared at him, dazed it seemed, the red in his eyes dimming. "_Our _way...yes, he was there when you first met Junn. I was there when you made your first lightsaber," those red eyes lost all feature, oblivious to the world surrounding him, "I remember Sasa fighting me on Kryuu. At times you would seek me out, wanting to know more about the Dark Side," the man rambled on, confused about his own identity, "he was always present, he saw it all. I witnessed everything from the shadows. Sasa was afraid of me, because she didn't understand him. I am born from Darkness, but there is a greater evil."

Krych tried to make sense of it. "A greater evil?"

The man just nodded. "What happens when you became so powerful...even the Force is not enough? When even endless doesn't - " He then shook his head a second later. "No, it's - not true." He lost himself, fighting back and forth between his own identities. "It flows...it flows to us too easily."

Kryck could feel the man's internal struggle and upon that surge of power came also disruption, a vergence in the Force. It felt like a razor digging into his brain, a splitting pain that almost numbed his very senses. He could see a light before his eyes that grew, forcing apathy into his very soul.

Deciding to fight it and tired of being ignored, Krych seized the moment and launched himself at the man, stabbing his lightsaber forth, but only to impale empty air behind the man as he sidestepped. Krych kicked out behind himself desperately and managed to knock the man to the ground, blowing up snow around him. He groaned but rolled to a stand before ever lying still.

Krych turned to face him again, his blade coming up over his head and cutting a line through the man's flattened outline in the snow, where'd he laid only seconds before. But once again the man just stood there, several feet away, still lost in his own thoughts, still contemplating things beyond the small matter of the duel.

Krych snarled in anger and charged forth. The man sidestepped again casually, almost by reflex, kicking Krych across the shins as he passed, dropping him onto the ground. The Dark Jedi swallowed snow but rolled forward to a stand quickly, and once again turned to face his attacker.

Krych raised his sword, feeling heavy in body and spirit. He knew he was losing this battle, the man was just toying with him, and he wouldn't let him escape. The thought of dying filled Krych's mind and it carried Junn's sweet smile through everything. He dared to smile, finding some relief in her image.

"You too are darkness," the man muttered in a low voice, mostly to himself, the wind obsorbing most of his words, "but the Force has no sides. There is only the Force, and it is not of a dualistic nature. What changes us is within ourselves. Right or wrong...there is no such thing. What matters is the spirit."

Krych allowed the moment to pass, regaining his strength while it lasted. "You're wrong," he said back, "I changed. I felt the change when I turned."

The man's eyes closed. "No..you're lying...I was there when you _turned_." His voice had an edge of mocking in it. "You wanted it, the power, you were amazed. An orphan that Sasa took in, like a son. You wanted the power so you could be like them. You sold your soul to have a home." The eyes opened, the flaring red eyes on fire. "And your _loyalty _is a dream. It is the mask you've pulled over your own lies, to hide from yourself that you know you don't belong with them. That they will never be the real family you dreamed of, the family that deserted you."

Krych's fingers tightened around the handle. "Shut up..."

The man was undaunted. "Sonnet was not of born of the Dark Side, but the Force. He didn't _choose _darkness. His spirit was born as a contingency, destined to be there..." the words trailed off. "The Force wanted this to happen, all of this...was planned. To help me understand." His body started trembling. "_I am you_."

Krych didn't understand anymore. "What?"

The man nodded to himself after a few seconds, finally appearing to understand his place. "Fine then, enough playing."

The man pulled up his empty hand in an instant, fingers sprayed. The push hit Krych like a wave of pain and Krych flew with the speed of a snowball tossed across the plain, flying out of control. After several seconds he smashed against and through a wall into a lower level of the building they'd vacated minutes earlier. He tumbled through the broken wall and slammed up against another wall inside, finally stopping his flight. He dropped to the floor, his body broken in some places, a concussion slowly drapping his brain.

The room around him was dark as night, a black only disturbed by the stars in front of his eyes and the dim light from the outside glowing through the hole in the wall -

The prisoner came flying through the hole, as if the winds themselves carried him, setting him down softly on the floor inside. He straightened out slowly, his red eyes fixated on Krych, his voice rising to a menacing roar. "This is where you belong, Krych, with the rest of the shadows! Time to end all this misguiding, all these illusions of grandeur. There is only one child of the Force, one true hand of fate!"

Krych wanted to fight him, wanted to stand strong but his body wouldn't let him. Too much pain, too much hurt. His brain was slowly shutting down, succombing to the injury his head had sustained. He started to cry, started to think of Sasa and Koll and Junn. All those he had failed.

The man began to approach him but but never made it past the first step. His eyes narrowed, like he was sensing something new. Krych only then felt it too, an approaching darkness, a blackness he had felt before. He could feel it, moving slowly and invisibly through the air around them, until it touched them.

The Force left Krych and his body finally betrayed him in full, becoming a heavy burden that sucked his soul down onto the floor. He felt ill, suddenly so powerless and drained. And across from him the man was also on the floor, struggling to just keep breathing, groaning from a deep pain.

_The ysalamiri cages_.

Krych smiled.

_Thank you, Jovis._

The two of them locked eyes across the dim ray of light, judging whether or not they would continue to fight. Although his head wasn't all there, the blow to it made the shred of light between them feel like a giant sun, this advantage to the battle gave him some encouragement, a last flicker of hope to kill the man. Krych could read fear in the man's eyes and that was incentive enough. He lifted the lightsaber from the floor, though it seemed to weigh more now than ever before.

The man inhaled deeply and when he spoke his voice was normal, gruff but also frail. "Don't try it, kid. I trained with a lightsaber long before I felt the Force. It's suicide to fight with one if you can't touch the Force."

Krych spat blood on the floor, ignoring the wave of nausea running through his body.

The man clutched his own lightsaber and stood, his shoulders slouched and his body waving back and forth. "Come on, then."

Krych swirled the blade in his hand, and a smile spread across his face. Krych took two joyous steps forward before switching into a run with his blade held high, screaming ferociously. The man blocked the overhead swing with a one-handed grip, but it was clear from the weak defense that all his strength was not in it. He stumbled back a step, shaking his head.

Krych pulled strength from his hate, now being devoid of the Force. He fed on his desire to inflict pain and revenge upon this stranger, this insane man from nowhere, who'd torn apart his life. And it felt good, pure revenge, untouched by the tendrils of the Dark Side. Untainted by it's own selfish desire to break and corrupt, to feed.

His teeth were clenched so hard it hurt his jaw, his face burning with sweat, and his hands brought the weapon down, batting his red blade with all his hatred upon the weakening man again and again.

But the man seemed to have already planned ahead. He stepped back as Krych swung the blade in a semi circle from his left to right, and overswinging in anger he brought his own blade around on his right shoulder, burning a straight line across his own shoulderblades. He screamed briefly in pain, a searing pain spreading across his back, his knees folding beneath him.

The man stepped back in and kicked Krych in the head, dropping him on his back. Standing over the apprentice, he reverted the lightsaber in his hands and held it up above Krych.

The man made a tsk-tsk sound. "Sorry, kid. You should've - "

A scratching sound went through the chamber. Both of them froze where they were, suddenly aware of a presense beyond their own. The man moved up his green blade like a torch, trying to fight back some of the darkness of the room. The walls around them were sloped upwards, mansized holes welded into their surfaces -

Both of them stared into the darkness inside those holes, several sets of yellow eyes staring back at them, and the sound of lips smacking.

The vhroniks.

Instantly fearful, Krych pounced on the moment, scissoring his legs around the man's shins, dropping him to his knees. Krych rolled free and away from him, then ran up the sloped wall closest to him, careful of avoiding the holes, though he thought he could feel the vibrations through his soles as the animals reacted. At the top he bent down in his knees and jumped up, his fingers clutching onto piping in the ceiling.

He pulled himself up and worked quickly with his lightsaber to carve a gap through to the next level. He swung himself up through the hole and laid himself flat on the floor next to it, struggling to breathe. This level was also on fire, dangerously close to him, forcing him to cough out the smoke. He rolled over to the hole, wanting to see the vhroniks tear the man apart, but the concussion finally took hold of him and he passed out, drifiting away into a nothingness, fire dancing dangerously close to his face...

* * *

Skar, facing the many new revalations he'd experienced through his meld with Sonnet, stared back coldly at the dozens of yellow eyes that moved in the darkness around him. They circled him, surrounded him, getting ready to attack. In the back of his head he remembered Shinran telling him about Kayupa's encounter with these creatures back on Kryuu, how Kayupa had killed countless of these canines using the Dark Side. Skar wasn't afraid. Even without the Dark Side they were just animals and his lightsaber was still in his hand.

The vhroniks prowled, staging themselves at every corner, acting as a group. He heard them communicating with each other, through growls and snarls, he could almost feel the excitement in their animal sounds.

Skar swung his lightsaber around, defending himself. The vhroniks started shaking in a frenzied state. Their hunger and desire to kill filled their tiny brains, until they were ready to explode with a lust to taste blood and shred flesh.

He felt confident in his ability to take them, even though without the Force and the Dark Side his body was slowly feeling the effects it had ignored for too longer. The wounds, his concussion from the crash of the _Passive_, his hunger, the pain in his arms from all the fighting he'd done in the past few hours rampaging through Hope's Haven. All of it was slowly coming back to him, draining him like a ruptured wound.

He could feel his body shutting down. He could feel -

The pain shot through him like a spear, the sickness that he'd held at bay for so long, for so many years. The disease Eknath had claimed was a part of his cloned genes, his limited lifespan. His heart raced, his mind wobbled, and dark edges of the corners of his vision started to grow and grow, consuming his very sight.

He was dying rapidly.

Skar dropped to his knees, and almost didn't feel the lightsaber rolling from his fingers. He barely heard it touch the floor, as the stabbing pain built inside of him, forcing him to scream out in agony. It magnified, throbbing through him like a pulsating geyser of torment.

A single vhronik jumped at him, lashing at him with its tail and he was swung around on his belly. He tried to stand back up but the fire running through his bones and veins left him weakened on the floor. He fought to keep his eyes open, to focus on the lightsaber lying no more than two feet from his hand. He trained his mind to keep it locked in his consciousness and extended his right hand to grasp it.

Almost there, fingers grazing the metallic hilt, his hand then froze in midair.

_Don't..._

He thought he heard something, a voice, a voice he'd heard very long ago. Not Kayupa, not Skind and not Bo-Hi, but someone else. Someone connected with them.

_Don't, Skar...You don't have to._

He remembered the voice, and tears started to fill his eyes.

"Shin...ran?"

He heard her laugh, her sweet soft laughter. And all his heart bloomed with joy, while the rest of his body started to shut down. All he had left was the strength to smile, and to simply surrender to the sound of her voice, knowing it would carry him off and that he didn't need to be afraid. Soon she would be there with him again.

Skar took in a deep breath and gave himself to Death, letting the face of Shinran be the image that carried him into eternal sleep. Shinran's smile was already taking him beyond this world, and her sweet voice in ears drowned out the sound of the vhroniks as they launched from every corner of the room, crawling onto him like a swarm of insects, fighting and clawing at each other for fresh meat.

Skar imagined he'd see darkness in death, but Shinran's eyes was all there was, luring him on, egging him to follow her beyond the curtains of this world, behind the faint sensation of his body being ripped apart. Skar didn't fight it, didn't turn his face away from the beautiful face of death. He went for it, with all the heart and soul of the man he once was. And onwards, into plains of grass waving softly beneath a brilliant sky, he chased her.

* * *

As the wave of pain passed over her, the mourning of a Kjoil's death in the Force, Sasa stabilized herself against the wall outside the cloning facility. She'd felt the sensation before, but it never ceased to astound her, to surprise her. She doubted Jedi far away would feel it, but this close it took all breath out of her. It brought a sensation of sadness with it, one she could easily relate to because she knew which Kjoil had perished. Her real brother had left the same quake in the Force. Though she was somewhat relieved that things were finally back in balance, she couldn't help wonder how their prisoner had met his end. But for now she was satisfied knowing the man was infact finally dead.

She straightened out, cleared her throat and wiped away the single tear the feeling had left behind. Letting the tense air leave her lungs she activated the doors and stepped inside the facility.

Eknath sat there on the steps to the operating dais, his head slouched down between his knees, looking drained and weak. It appeared as if he hadn't heard her step inside, but she knew that wasn't true. The man could probably sense everything going on in the -

"You are right, my lady," he said in a dry voice, his head slowly rising to look at her, "he is dead now. It is over."

She nodded, fighting the tension his presense and closeness always brought to her. "How?"

Eknath's tired eyes locked on the floor, a grim expression on his face. "Vhroniks. Those creatures tore him apart."

The image in her head brought a feeling of sickness to her. But she quickly forced her thoughts away from it and drove for the next question. "Did it work?"

Eknath nodded to a mansized capsule in front of one of the cloning tanks. "It is done. The host body is ready for the transfer, and the Force is still brimming in it's cells. However," his voice changed into one more annoyed and irritated, "that fool Jovis raised the ysalamiri cages too soon. It could have been dangerous. If I was unable to use the Force to keep the ysalamiri from blocking the clone's link to the Force, the body would have been useless."

Sasa nodded. "We were lucky."

"It wasn't luck, and it wasn't the Force."

She decided not to delve further into the subject. "Why has the Force been restored?"

Eknath's lips curled. "The vhroniks...they hunted down and killed every one of the ysalamiri. Sought them out like the disturbance they are. It is fortunate that Koll disciplined those animals not to hunt us."

Sasa agreed. "Where is Master Raine?"

Eknath's eyes stirred. "He is on his way. Krych is alive but I can't seem to find him. Koll is also somewhat of a mystery."

She was afraid to ask. "Junn?"

Eknath looked worried, his eyes dimming as he sought out her mind using his powers. "She is alive, but she doesn't want to be found. She needs time alone, at least...that's what her mind tells me."

It worried Sasa, but she was happy to know the lieutenant was still alive. "We will give it to her." Sasa's eyes moved involuntarily to the clone hatceries in the back of the chamber, three empty, one recently used and one still holding their back-up clone body, in case the first test went wrong. She supposed that body, that sleeping dormant form flowing slowly within the glass container, was useless now.

"Derrick and Jovis are also on their way here," Eknath said in a flat voice, clearly unconcerned with their fates.

Sasa tilted her head to look at him. "What happened to Sonnet?"

Eknath's face crunched up. "The Kjoil...devoured his soul."

She was skeptical. "Devoured his soul? Impossible."

Eknath rose slowly from his seating, dusting himself off. "It happened. You, like him, have failed to reach the full potential of a Kjoil. You are born with the Force, and you've been taught control of it. But a Kjoil doesn't need control," Eknath's words were like wisdom plucked from the air, infinite wisdom only a man of his intellect could acheive, "a Kjoil's power is endless. The Jedi and even your brother taught you control, but they were only trying to mire your powers, downplay your strength. The prisoner understood this; they are children of the Force, Sasa, just like you, and their power is endless." He looked at her, a weary smile on his face. "I consider myself fortunate that my own soul was not taken along with Sonnet. Being there...I know it could easily have happened."

The words startled Sasa, though she'd thought those same thoughts before, but too afraid to try them out. Too much control, too much power, would drive a person insane. She was satisfied with what she had, but she knew others, like Eknath, could never have enough power.

She thought about what to do next, with Koll out of action she would have to assume control. She made her mental list of her assests and formulated a plan that would put them back -

Something was missing. "Where is Joon?"

Eknath's face turned away quickly, fast enough to let her know something was indeed changed. "He's...resting."

"Resting?"

Eknath merely nodded, his eyes averted.

She crossed her arms. "What happened down there? I thought you knew what you were doing."

Eknath kept his gaze on the floor. "He was...stronger than I expected."

Sasa sighed. "I said that from the very beginning."

"Yes, and we should have listened. It was a dangerous ploy, but even you know why it had to be done."

She nodded. "I did, and still do."

Eknath grinned. "Interesting."

The doors opened. The hunched over Jedi Master Raine moved his aching old body through the doorway, groaning with each step, joining them at the dais. His eyes, though warm and kind as always, carried a taint of sadness. He exhaled heavily and leaned his body into the same seating that Eknath had vacated. "It would seem...we have overestimated ourselves."

Eknath frowned. "Not all of us," his eyes passed over Sasa, "but some of us."

Sasa wished Koll was there with her. "Koll did what he felt was right."

"Yes, exactly," Eknath snarled, "what _he _felt was right. Right for him and his vain attempt to prove himself. But all he has proven is that he is unworthy of leadership."

Raine shook his tiny head. "We all have weakness, even the brightest of flames must extinguish when put against a cold blizzard."

Eknath stood by himself, his thin fingers tapping the railing of the operating dais impatiently. "Is that another Jedi dogma?" he asked spitefully.

Raine's eyes sharpened, clearly insulted. "I have never judged you, my friend, on your choice of side in the Force. I respect your choice, and I would expect you to do the same for me."

Eknath chuckled to himself. "I did not choose a side, I chose a means to an end."

"And I, an ideal," Raine retorted. "I'll let you abuse the Force all you desire, Master Eknath, but do not mock me for simply listening to it."

Sasa found herself relieved that none of their apprentices were around to hear them argue about the Force, proving that they had as little grasp of what the Force really was, or entailed, as anyone else. As parental figures, their Masters had to appear resolved about the matter.

"Where do you stand on this, Lady Sasa?" Eknath asked darkly, slowly turning to face her. "Have you _chosen _or are you _chosen_?"

She didn't want to answer but she actually realized she was leaning more towards Eknath's way of thinking. Sasa didn't regard the Force as multifaced, it was a tool she had been born with and she could not imagine life without it. But it was not a companion, or a source of light, it was merely a tool. A weapon forged in her through the years, one made to strike against all the wrong in this world.

But even though she admitted to sharing beliefs with Eknath, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "I stand alone," her voice ended the discussion like a blade through bones. "How many of our troops fell?"

Raine sighed dissapointedly. "It is difficult to say, many of them are still regrouping. But it would be wise of us to reconsider our next course of action."

She contemplated the next stage of their plan, and the involvement of their troopers. "Yes, it would seem we will have to take a more active role in the upcoming battle. To make up for the losses."

Eknath didn't hide his discontent. "An active role? Your apprentice still lives, as does Junn."

She shook her head. "Neither of which are at full strength. Someone will have to lead the army."

At that fact, Eknath's face changed, wide-eyed and suddenly seeing many new possibilities. "Yes...and you are second in command."

Why Eknath was eager for her to assume command of the army puzzled her and that feeling alone was enough motivation for her to turn down the suggestion. "No, it will not be me. My place is here."

Raine shifted his small body, clearly uncomfortable. "I will send Ragh to aid the troopers."

Sasa nodded, thankful for the addition. She looked back at Eknath.

The telepath shrunk into a mere shell of himself. "No. No chance. Joon will stay at my side. He has no place in open warfare."

Sasa was not surprised, which in itself opened up new ways for her to strike at him. "I never thought Joon mattered that much to you."

Eknath bit the inside of his lower lip. "He's a tool, if you can even label him a person anymore. He's my weapon of choice," his eyes wandered, looking for a reasonable counterpoint, and his lips twitched when he found one, "to control Joon I would have to be in complete concentration, fixed on him." He smiled victoriously. "And as we all know when the battle begins, I am needed elsewhere."

He was right, Sasa admitted. But she wouldn't have expected anything less than for him to weasel his way out of giving up anything that belonged to him. "Then who?"

Raine coughed, a dry and coarse cackle. "It must be you, Sasa. Koll was the blade and the shield of this army. But you are the heart of it. It is you that the soldiers think of as their mother, the person whose smile gives them courage. Only you can send them into battle, since our two lieutenants and Koll are missing. I am a withering old man, and as Master Eknath stated, he is needed elsewhere. Neither Joon nor Ragh can do it."

Sasa fought for alternative suggestions, even ones she found doubtful. "What about Jovis?"

Eknath chuckled. "The man is a mercenary and the soldiers know it. They would never follow someone driven only by currency."

"He's not a mercenary anymore."

Raine sided with Eknath. "The soldiers don't know him as you do, Sasa. It wouldn't work."

Sasa felt trapped. She had no choice, and neither Koll nor Krych were there to comfort her. She felt so alone, and found it impossible to amass any kind of confidence. With time slipping away, and a Republic fleet on their doorstep, she knew she had to find a plan, and quickly.

Her voice broke. "A-alright. I'll do it," she cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. "Gather the remaining troops outside...to the south of the station. That is mostly likely where they will strike, the flattest terrain leading into this station. Once they are all gathered and the fleet arrives I will speak to the soldiers. Find out what's keeping Jovis and Derrick, and find out what's happened to Krych. I will look for Junn and - "

"All orders are hereby _rescinded_."

The entire group turned to see Koll Riokon standing in the doorway into the cloning facility. His head was slightly bowed, but his eyes were clear and sharp as day itself. His gaze fell upon each of them as he slowly stepped inside. His coat was torn in several places, pieces of it touched by fire, pieces of armor glistening even beneath the dim lights in the chamber. His face was smothered in sweat and ash.

Derrick and Jovis, as well as Akla Jawk, appeared from the hallway behind him and joined the group inside the chamber.

"Koll!" Sasa cried in relief.

But his face did not change. "As I said; all orders are rescinded. I am in command here."

Though her heart was touched with the joy of seeing him alive, she could feel by the tone in his voice that he was changed. And that his anger involved her as well. "What happened?"

His neck straightened, and his eyes would shot lightning if they could. "Events forced us to delay the inevitable. And it seems now it could not have come at a better time. I trusted you to maintain discipline while I was detained, but I can see now I gave you too much credit."

Sasa started to feel like she was being cornered. "I maintained command while you were..._detained_, so if you disagree with any of my orders, you take it up with me."

Koll stared at her for a long time, his eyes speaking in volumes, but only to her because she knew his eyes so well.

Eknath looked away. "This bickering is pointless. There's a Republic fleet on it's way here Without power we have no way of communicating with them - "

"And why would we want to communicate with them?" Koll asked, an edge to his voice. "We're out here to _kill _them, Prophet. Not chit-chat."

Eknath glanced at him. "And how do we kill them then?"

"The ships launched are carrying troops and ground assault vehicles, a surface battle just like we always wanted."

Sasa turned her side to him. "But we no longer have an army." She bit back the obvious remark. _Because you wanted to play with the clone, instead of killing him like we were supposed to._

The entire group was startled as the doors opened again, revealing a frail looking Krych. He leaned against the wall and started to fall forward. Sasa raced to catch her apprentice, supporting him against herself and walking him inside the facility. Only once she was close enough did she see the damage he'd suffered . His face was burnt severly, all identifiable features gone, She didn't know what had happened to him, but she tore her eyes away from his face before nausea could take her. The group stood back as Sasa laid her apprentice down on the floor of the command dais, kneeling down next to him.

"Is he alright?" Koll asked, with some sympathy in his voice.

Sasa ran her hand over Krych's face, feeling the roughness of his scorched skin beneath her fingers. "His face is..." she couldn't say it. "He's suffered a concussion, and some broken bones. But he's going to be alright. Bacta should heal him up."

Koll started to ask more questions but his words never emerged, as a second unseen person in the doorway moved into the chamber and brushed up against Koll's shoulder as he walked to take his place by Eknath's side. Koll identified Joon easily but it took several glances before he noticed the change for the first time.

Joon wore a piece of cloth over his eyes, bound at the back of his head. Beneath the edges of the cloth, several wounds and scabs were visible. Eknath, with his back to Joon, bowed his head and started to shiver.

Out of nowhere Koll raised his hand, and Eknath flew across the room, slamming face first against the far wall. He dropped back down on the floor and rolled over to face Koll, leaning up against the wall. His lips dripped blood and his breathing intensified. Koll's hand was still outreached, his voice a rasping cold.

"Why?"

Eknath spat blood. "He did it to himself."

Koll's jaw hardened. "We both know that Joon doesn't do anything out of his own will."

Eknath got to his feet, still supporting himself against the wall. "I did it primarily to enhance his vision."

Koll frowned with disgust. "_Enhance his vision_...has all sanity finally left you?"

"Don't be dense. I'm talking about the Force. With all the recent Jedi, Dark Jedi, Kjoil and clones that's been roaming the fortress its left little in the ways of balance, espicially for some of our younger, more inexperienced adepts. Now Joon can see outside the physical world, he can see the Force like streams of water, all painted in different colours."

Joon stood like a statue, oblivious even to the fact that people were talking about him, a puppet only moving by Eknath's will.

Koll stepped forward. "We have thousands of men...sensors in place all over...vhroniks...and you _still _found it necessary to mutilate your own apprentice?"

Eknath was starting to show signs of fear, with Koll approaching him more and more. "His shell is mine to govern, he's merely an extension of me - "

Koll raised his hand, slamming and holding Eknath up against the wall again, a few feet off the floor. "Then next time cut your own eyes out!"

Eknath fought for breath. "Why...anger? I've...done countless things against Joon...you've never objected."

Koll released his grip and Eknath landed on his feet, clutching his own throat. Koll turned away from him, letting out a deep sigh, clearly disillusioned. Koll drew in as much breath as he could hold, the sound of it almost painful. "I want to trust the good in you I once knew...I always believed you would know the line before you crossed it. Is there no emotion left in you?"

Eknath's eyes widened. "Emotion!"

Koll shook his head. "Torturing our own men...it's damaging to the rest. I don't want this sort of thing to take place in my army."

Eknath's entire body hardened. "_Your _army?"

Koll turned around quickly, holding out his hands. "What happened to you, Eknath? Where was I when you lost it?"

Eknath grinned nefariously. "I have only one emotion left inside; compassion. Compassion for this galaxy and its future. All I do, I do to strengthen it."

Raine joined in on the discussion. "By cutting out a poor boy's eyes?"

Eknath shrugged. "Joon is fearless, uninvolved," Eknath's eyes passed over the others. "Between him or Krych, a man so wrapped in sorrow he cannot think straight or follow orders; who would you choose? Between him and Sasa, a woman unable to govern her own heart or feelings; who would you choose?"

Krych was thankfully barely conscious, unable to prove the man wrong. Sasa bit her lower lip in agitation while tending to her apprentice, hoping her husband would kill the psychopath right then and there.

Koll took a slow step towards Eknath, his eyes wandering. "Our emotions make us strong, and our ability to understand them in time - "

"But we don't have time, Koll! These petty personal conflicts are what's driving us apart. What good will we do in a war if all of our soldiers, by their own internal wars, are already burned out by the time the first blade falls?"

Koll's eyes were frozen, yet Eknath could almost see the thoughts bouncing back and forth behind them. "I am the General; do not make any desicions again without consulting me first. Is that clear?"

Eknath frowned. "Koll - "

"_General_," Koll insisted.

Something in Eknath's eyes changed, a clear glimpse of wounded feelings and sadness. His head bowed slowly. "Yes, General," his voice was full of venom. "I shall obey."

Koll smiled victoriously. "Its time to introduce discipline again."

Eknath stood there like a monument of defiance, his every bone and thought screaming to burst and roar. Anger and wounded pride corroding every part of him, his only salvation was the fact that he wouldn't let Koll have his victory. If the General wanted a pet, he would have one. "Understood, General."

Koll drew in air slowly. "Here's the plan; once the enemy army has touched down Prophet and Finality will go to the highest point of this base and await my command."

Eknath and Raine looked to each other in confusion. "To do what, exactly?" Raine asked.

Koll didn't answer, his hard face showing no signs that he ever would.

Raine nodded, thinking better of forcing the issue considering Koll's temperament. "We will do as you command."

Eknath glanced angrily at his new partner, his exhalation carrying all his annoyance. "It looks that way."

Koll nodded, an overly pleased look on his face. "Loyalty, once he's healed up, will meet up with our remaining troops, lead them to the _northmost _building and await my command."

Sasa looked up. "Northmost? Why there?"

Koll looked to his wife, a small smile. "Because I will adress them before they go into battle, and our enemy might convene on the southern plain, but we have a surprise waiting for them there. If it lives up to expectations, we might not have to send a single trooper into combat." Koll looked to the next in line, the puppet Joon. "Tragedy, you will scour this facility, every corner, every bulkhead for Eulogy. She's still alive."

Joon nodded, not a glimmer of hesitation in the obedient youth and unlike Eknath and Raine he marched in a straight line for the door and left the Inner Council to themselves.

Koll smiled again at that fact and looked to Raine and Eknath.

They looked to each other and then followed Joon's lead and left Koll with Sasa, Krych, Jovis and Derrick.

Koll's eyes locked onto Derrick. "Derrick, there is a B-wing fighter waiting for you in the hangar of the adjacent building," Koll's voice became soft and kind, "go retrieve your family. If you leave now you will have amble time to get them off Coruscant before our strike. I thank you for your service, and relieve you of it. Go to them, save them."

Derrick's eyes were wide with joy but also confused. "You're letting me go?"

Koll nodded. "I only needed you to maintain this station while we underwent our mission. I do not need you anymore. Consider it a payment."

Derrick still looked doubtful.

"You didn't expect me to uphold my word, did you?"

Derrick looked to Jovis, looking for anyone who could share in his bewilderment. "No...I suppose I didn't."

Koll grinned. "I get that a lot. I am not an evil man, Derrick. In time you too will see that my actions have only goodness in them. It is hard to see that now, but your children will reap the benifits, I assure. I pray you will live long enough to tell them that you helped the Galaxy became the safe haven they will live in."

Derrick smiled, almost bursting into tears. "Thank you, General," he looked around at the others. "Thank you, all of you."

Sasa felt like crying too, the kind of joy she sensed from Derrick she hadn't felt in a long time. She nodded to him, and smiled warmly. "_We_ thank you, Derrick."

Derrick's eyes became moist and he looked like he wanted to run for the hangar, but couldn't because he couldn't find the words to express his full gratitude.

"No more words, Derrick," Koll said, "go now. Go to your family."

Derrick's tears were finally freed and he chuckled. "Yes, yes I will. Thank you so much for this." Derrick ran for the doorway and soon dissapeared down the hallway.

Back inside the chamber Jovis looked anxious, dreading what assignment he would be given. Akla stood behind him, the alien's otherwise emotionless face starting to pale slightly.

Koll's eyes stayed focused on them, and he slowly began to walk in an orbit around them. "Your's is the easiest task of all; I want you to tell me, in all exquisite detail how you were contacted for this assignment."

Jovis's brows lifted. "What?"

Koll stopped at Jovis's right, his gaze burning with anger. "I have come across evidence of a traitor inside my unit," his head lowered slightly again, "and you two are the latest additions."

Sasa felt her insides turn to stone. "What?"

"Someone has had a hand in the way events of unfolded. I learned that much from the clone. Someone wanted him out here. Someone who knew what he was."

Jovis tensed up, but in some way he'd known this moment would come. "You contacted the Bothan on Coruscant, looking for a mercenary group. I took the contract. All the sheet said was to go to Regana."

Koll's brows came up. "That's all? You took the contract based on so little intel?"

Jovis shrugged. "There's usually not a lot more. The fee I was suggested was considerable, and, given that, you don't ask a lot of questions." Jovis scoffed to himself. "Hell, I still don't understand why you needed me and my men. All we've done are little delievery mission."

Koll raised a hand. "Yes, I know. I have been holding you back for your real mission. But it seems now, with the arrival of a Republic fleet, that you're about to be put to real use."

Jovis was starting to feel even more anxious. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this new mission.

"First; go and gather your group. Round up the hostages and await my command."

He felt uninformed. Worried. Jovis held out his hands in confusion. "That's it?"

Koll nodded. "For now."

"Why not tell me the rest right away? Why all this secrecy?" Jovis looked at Sasa but the woman had her eyes elsewhere. Even Akla looked unpleased. "You still don't trust me. That's it, isn't it?"

Koll cackled. "Do you trust _me_, Jovis?"

Jovis hesitated. "I'm trusting you with my life just by being here. But I don't like being kept in the dark."

Koll understood. "It's important for me to keep information at a minimum. You will notice none of the others asked for further information. And they don't know what they are about to do. The full design of this plan is kept only by me and my wife," he held out his hand towards Sasa, "the rest of our unit trusts me, trusts my judgement and planning. And they've known me for decades, Jovis. They understand that they will be told when they need to know, and so will you."

Jovis still wasn't satisfied, his hands slowly becoming fists. He knew he would acheive nothing by debating the matter further. He didn't like feeling pinced, played for a fool. And no, he didn't trust Riokon as much as he wished. Too many things were wrong, too many variables he didn't understand. It didn't make sense that the Sons of Destiny needed his little group to fulfill their Dream. He remembered standing up himself during their dinner many nights ago, Riokon had gained respect for him that night. Maybe he could again.

Jovis straightened up. "Alright. I'll complete any mission you throw at me. There's just one thing."

Koll looked up. "And that is?"

Jovis pocketed his hands. "Tell me why I'm here. Not the mission, I don't care about that at all. But you could easily have sent any of your own men to fulfill any task you might throw at me, and you know that too. Why an outside group? It doesn't make sense. And I want to know. I _need _to know."

Koll stood still, his eyes burning straight through Jovis, contemplating the matter. Jovis suffered the stare as best as he could, if it was a contest of strength he really didn't bother participating. The General already knew he would win, but Jovis would persist out of simple defiance.

The General opened his mouth to talk -

Akla started laughing lightly, the alien seemingly finally grasping what Jovis could not. All eyes fell upon the Arkanian.

"Do you not see, Jovis? He doesn't _want _to tell you," the alien stepped forward, "he doesn't _want _to hurt you."

Koll smiled a little. "Your Arkanian friends lives up to the wisdom of his species."

Jovis stood in the middle, feeling blind and deaf. "What are you talking about?" he said to Akla.

The Arkanian locked eyes with Jovis. "They needed an outside group, someone expendable. From the very start they've done everything to minimize risking their own soldiers. Even taking the time to carefully plan for it. But they realized lives would be lost. And that's where we came in, our group," the alien looked back at Koll, "think about it; they were sent out with Eulogy to stop the intruders, they were selected to guard the hostages, all very dangerous assignments."

Akla began to smile, tearing apart a secret that explained the reason for them being on Regana. "But something happened for which they hadn't planned. Our own men mutinied, but the General couldn't kill them because it would anger you, Jovis. And he still needs you. The men sent offworld in the _Civilian_, which he had you donate to them to romance you even more, made it nessecary for him to use his own soldiers in capturing the escaped prisoner, otherwise surely our group would have been charged with that task."

Koll stood there, listening with a patient smile.

Akla went on. "And even this new task, rounding up the hostages, I'm sure leaves us expendable."

Jovis felt betrayed, and he cursed himself for not seeing it before. "We were buffers. Expendable help." He remembered Junn saying the exact same thing during their dinner long ago. She wasn't being intentionally crude, she was being honest. "Junn was right."

Koll nodded. "Yes, hired to do a job. The fact that your men died is their own fault," the General smirked, "but don't try and tell me you ever cared for those men, Jovis. You labeled them as useless yourself."

Jovis admitted that. "They were _still _my men. You should have told me."

Akla grinned. "He wanted to, and he would, except for another unplanned incident."

Jovis wasn't sure he wanted to hear anymore.

"He began to like you."

Koll laughed, and started clapping his hands together. "Very good."

Jovis looked back at the General. "Is that true?"

Koll stopped clapping his hands and just smiled fully at the mercenary leader. "Indeed, it is. However," his right hand came up, fingers sprayed just like he did with Eknath, "you keep some very tiresome company."

Akla reached for his sidearm and managed to unholster it. But before it could aim at Riokon, the blaster exploded in Akla's hands. Jovis fell back, covering his face from the shrapnell and flames. Sasa protected Krych from the blast by leaning over his body. Through the ringing of their ears, Akla's alien scream slowly punched through. The alien fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding wrist beneath his left armpit.

Acting on instinct Jovis drew his own weapon and aimed at Riokon. Koll moved his hand over, ready to block the shot if Jovis decided to fire. The room fell into silence except for Akla's whimpering. Jovis stood there frozen, seeing Koll's face down the sight of his blaster. He wanted to fire, except for Akla the rest of his group were faceless morons. But Akla was his trustee, his friend. At times his only friend.

Koll awaited Jovis's move. "Fire if you will, Jovis. I do not blame you."

Jovis tightened his grip on the weapon. "There's no point, is there? I haven't got a chance against you."

On the dais, Sasa removed herself from Krych and stood up resolutely, making herself part of the proceedings, her body language signaling that if Jovis tried anything he would have to deal with her as well.

Meanwhile Akla continued to groan in agony.

"He was right, Jovis," Koll said, "I do like you. You've been impartial, obedient, resourceful. I like you because you remind me of myself. You have a goal, an object or ideal you want to reach, and you go for it, undaunted by the dangers involved. You live for this, it's all your life holds." Koll's hand started to lower. "You are a part of us now, Jovis. It's not the money anymore, and you know that as well. You've admitted it to yourself. You want glory, you want fame and recognition. And you know, as I do, that great acheivements demand great sacrifices. All you have to do is pull the trigger," Koll's eyes fell upon the wounded Akla, "let nothing hold you. Not friendship, not love, not loyalty. Do it for yourself, just as you've always done."

Jovis glanced over his shoulder at Akla, the alien still on his knees, his clothes drenched in blood. The alien was crying, his head bowed down. Jovis looked at him, for the first time it seemed. The man was a confidant, but he was alien, just like the rest of them. He felt close to the being, but it was still an employee. Whatever friendship Jovis told himself he shared with this man was purely based on profession courtesy really. Was he going to let Akla stand in the way of immortality and power?

Jovis shook his head. What was he thinking? Why was it so easy? His mind started to swirl, a veil of darkness shrouded it. All noise died out except for Akla's crying, that annoying alien cry. It started to wear on him, started to make his jaw bite together. The sound grew inside his head, drowning out his own thoughts. That irritating alien whimpering. _Shut up_, he thought, _be a man, take the pain._

Akla still groaned and moaned, the sounds of a pathetic weakling. The sound continued to build, growing until Jovis couldn't take it no more. His body shivered with anger and annoyance, frustration tempting his every cell.

Akla slowly moved his bleeding wrist out from inside his armpit and stared at the wound, his wailing rose again, his crying intensified and the alien curled together on the floor like a baby.

Jovis bit his own lip and tasted his own blood. The pain went straight to his head and Jovis exploded on the inside.

The blaster in his hand moved to aim at Akla instead.

"Shut up!" he yelled and fired. The bolt struck Akla in the chest, throwing the alien a few feet backwards on the floor. The alien cried louder. "Shut up!" Jovis fired again, this time hitting a shoulder, blowing the alien even further back. Akla's bloodshot eyes flew wide and stared at Jovis with mixed hate and misery. "Shut up!" Jovis screamed again and pulled the trigger rapidly, pushing the alien up against the wall until he couldn't move anymore, continuing to rain shots upon the weak and annoying alien.

"_Shut up!_" Jovis cried with each shot, emptying his blaster into the alien's already dead and shattered body until the blaster ran out of rounds.

Jovis stood there, panting for air, his teeth still clenched in hatred, his finger still pulling the trigger though no shots fired from the muzzle. Akla laid in the corner, his body a mess of blaster holes and blood-covered clothes, but his whimpering had finally stopped.

Jovis finally lowered the blaster, feeling spent and exhausted.

"Good," Koll said behind him, his voice slow and deep, "very good, Jovis."

Jovis holstered the blaster, feeling empty but powerful inside. He turned to look at Koll. "No more questions, Riokon," he said, feeling like a new man, a stronger man. "I've got work to do."

Koll smiled brilliantly. "You're excused."

Jovis marched out of the chamber, a sense of pride in his steps. The corridor outside swallowed him up and left Koll alone with Sasa and the unconscious Krych. Sasa kept her eyes on her husband, a discontent look in them.

"You pushed him, I felt it."

Koll shrugged. He walked over and sat on the steps of the dais. "A warrior must push every angle to his advantage to get what he wants."

Sasa stood behind him, staring into his back. "You scare me sometimes, Koll."

Koll put his head down on his knees, exhaling, his voice becoming less omnious and more normal. "You should have seen him, Sasa...the clone. He was a monster. He dwarfed my powers. Everything I've learned, all I've ever done, all my strength and all my powers...gone, with the movement of his hand. He was _strong_," Koll said the word like it wasn't enough to describe it, "stronger than anything I've ever felt. I felt the Force itself start to drain from me, like he was pulling energy from me. As if he was sucking the very life out of me, merely by his presence."

Sasa moved away from Krych and sat down next to her husband. "He took out more than half of our men, and left this station in ruins. I told you it was a risk."

Koll kept his head down, nodding. "I know...I see that now. I was too proud, too obsessed. He...has humbled me. I'm afraid, Sasa," his voice became fragile, "I'm so afraid. I never - "

Sasa put her arm around him, offering her support. "It's alright. He's gone now. Our mission goes on."

His head came up slowly, fixating upon the mansized cylinder holding a clone in the corner. Then his face turned to look into her eyes. There were tears in his own, but he smiled. But Sasa only wished it could have been a brave smile instead of a deceptive one.

"No," he said in a deep voice, starting to smirk, "_our _mission is over, Sasa." He nodded towards the doorway. "It's _their _mission now."

She didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

He faced her again and leaned his face in to kiss her lips. He kissed her hard, passionately, with all the fierceness of a man who'd never expected to kiss her again. He held her lips close to his, enjoying all the love she gave him in that kiss, tasting her as if for the first time.

He stopped the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, talking in a low voice with his eyes closed. "The war has begun, Sasa. Our part is done. It's time to stop dreaming."

She felt his warm face against her own, and it seemed all the world around them had dissolved. "I still love you, Koll."

He smiled and kissed her again briefly. "I know," his left hand came up and held her cheek inside. "I'll see you when you wake up."

Sasa's heart began to pound fast, an instant fear crawling over her, feeling him touch her with the Force. Before she could speak or move away, her eyes moved to the back of her head and her body turned heavy. She drifted into sleep inside his arms and he kept her from falling to the floor, cradling her tight.

The doors into the chamber opened on cue it seemed and a squad of soldiers in black armor moved inside, rifles at the ready, eyeing Koll holding his wife close within his strong arms, rocking her back and forth.

"Is everything ready?" he asked, his face buried in her hair.

The lead trooper nodded. "As you requested, General."

He moved his head away, and wiped away the tears he'd dropped on her pretty face. "Good, then take her." He held her up and two soldiers moved forward, helping each other carry the sleeping beauty. He stood up, dusted himself off and straightened his back. The soldiers marched out of the chamber, except for the lead trooper who stayed behind. With a hesitation in his movements, he extracted a small holoprojector from his belt.

"Eclipos," the soldier said.

Koll nodded and dismissed the soldier. Once he was alone, except for the sleeping Krych, he activated the two-way link projector. A full-sized hologram of Eclipos appeared on the floor before him, shimmering and fluttering and as always fully devoid of any identifiable features.

"General Riokon."

Koll nodded slowly.

"Will we be ready, General?"

Koll smiled confidently. "Oh, yes. A war to end all wars." He walked down the steps slowly, grinning satisfied to himself. "Soon the Galaxy will once again be in the hands of the Sith, and you, _Darth_ Eclipos, will rule the Galaxy as you always envisioned. I assure you, my Lord, the very best is yet to come. "

_**To Be Concluded in **_

_**Sons Of Destiny: Episode 3 - The Eclipse Of Fate**_


End file.
